Thin MInts

So, I was sitting on my sister Emily's couch talking with my fiancee over skype. At one point, the door to the boys' bedroom opened up and my nephew Adam walked out. He was very quiet, as he frequently is when he has just woken up from a nap.

"Adam, come talk to Olesya!" He came over and sat down. "Can you say hi?" He said hi. I then began to give Adam hints as to the kind of things he could ask Olesya. He asked her what her favorite song is: "The Princess and the People-Eater." He asked her what her favorite color is. Adam learned that her favorite color is green - something even I didn't know. So, my three-year-old nephew now knows my fiancee better than I do... maybe... depending on how you look at it.

So, we wrapped up the conversation, I said my goodbyes to Olesen'ka, and we let her go to sleep. Adam left the room. A few minutes later, he came back into the room with an entire box of girl scout thin mint cookies.

Suddenly, I felt extremely torn. In the next few minutes, I would have the opportunity to make many decisions of high influence on my nephew ... but ... those thin mints sure looked good. Adam disappeared from the room for a few minutes. Crisis avoided. He probably just found a nicely colored box and went to go put it back. A few minutes later, he came back with just the plastic-wrapped stack of cookies... opened ... with chocolate-influenced stains around the general area of his mouth. "They're cookies and they're chocolate!" he exclaimed.

He gave one to me.

I ate it.

"Adam, does your mom know that you're eating those cookies?"

"Yeah."

Okay, so at least I asked him, though I don't know how I could possibly expect Emily to absolve me from eating those cookies on the basis of her three-year-old son's accountability.

"Can I have another one?" I asked.

He gave it to me.

I ate it.

He popped another one into his mouth. I thought I'd better confirm with my sister that it was okay that we were eating these cookies. But then it hit me.

"She doesn't have to know."

My nephew can really pop those cookies into his mouth, and I probably exercised just about as much restraint as he did. We kept popping them. There was only one thing left to do.

"Hey, Adam. You want some milk?"