A week after the Christmas holiday, we were visiting my parents (Matthew’s grandparents). During the week before the visit, we picked up one of those packaged Christmas cakes on sale and brought it with us. Matthew made a mental note.
My mom asked if we could save it for next week, as she had already bought some sweets for us to enjoy after lunch. That was fine with us.
So, we had cookies and tea, and Matthew had cookies with some drink.
When we finished, I told Matthew it was time to get ready to head home. Matthew looked at me, surprised, and turned to look at Baba (that’s what he calls his grandmother).
"Baba, but we didn’t eat the cake. Where’s the cake, Baba? Baba, I brought you a cake?" Matthew kept asking.
I thought he’d never stop talking about the cake. He really wanted to eat it. We spent about five minutes explaining to him why we weren’t eating it today. It was because next week, his cousins were coming, and they wanted to have the cake too. That settled it.
Last week, we were visiting my parents again, and for lunch, Matthew was enjoying his chicken soup. When he finished his soup and the second dish, he brought his plate back to the kitchen and then returned to the table. He lifted the placemat, looked surprised, and asked, "But where’s my surprise?"
It happened once on Christmas Eve—Baba placed $20 under each grandchild’s placemat as a surprise (way too much in my opinion, but I couldn’t argue). So, Matthew remembered and asked again. I couldn’t believe my mother went and found another $20 just because he asked!
He knows better than to say, "Baba, this is too much," but instead, he said he was going to the toy store to buy more toys. Yes, like he really needs more toys.
I think instead of having a serious talk with Matthew, I’ll have to have a serious talk with my mom.
