Sneaky, Sneaky

Last night I made cookies. I never make cookies. This was probably the third time in my married life (to Rhett, haha). So after they were sitting on the cooling rack, Summer saw them and begged and begged for one. I told her she could have one after dinner. (She'd already eaten two!)

Then she said, "Mom, can I touch one?"

I said sure. Maybe she just wanted to feel the texture of a crunchy cookie.

She touched it, then got this sly look in her eyes and said, "My teacher says if you touch it, you have to have it."

Holy cow. She's a conniver at age 3.

I said she could have it . . . after dinner.