Occasionally, I need to be the grown up and refuse to give him any food. He wanted so terribly the piece of steak I had on my plate. He pleaded and begged for it. I couldn't give it to him, and he was upset. He doesn't understand such things, being driven by the simple reasoning that it is food, and all food is good. The piece of steak went into the trash.
He stared at me in utter disbelief. How could I throw it away when he was sitting right there. He sighed, then sighed again. Too much of a gentleman to dig through the trash for it he turned and went into the living room. "You couldn't have eaten it, Sammy-oh," I called after him. "It wasn't good for you."
I followed him into the living room. He had thrown himself onto the ground in front of the TV and was now staring mournfully at the silent screen. 'Sulking,' I thought going back to the kitchen. He would have to come out of it on his own.