Anyone who knew me during the first few months of my pregnancy will tell you I was hoping my baby would be a girl. I imagined us doing the typical mom-and-daughter boding activities: shopping, lunch, etc.

I guess a part of me also knew there would come a day when she would start stealing things from me. I hoped it would be clothes. I hoped it wouldn’t be money out of my wallet. (Youths…) What I didn’t anticipate? An unavoidable obsession with stealing my food.

My friends and I have started calling her the seagull. She’s constantly hovering, and if you give her a bite, she just becomes more determined.

I should be happy — my daughter eats everything! It’s a parent’s dream! But GOSH do I wish I could get through a meal without getting hassled by the little people.

Lately, all my meals look something like this:

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It’s my pizza, kiddos. Back off.

But, as parenting troubles go, I know I’m pretty lucky. I’d rather have a seagull than a picky eater any day.
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Stand down, little seagull. Stand down.

 

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