On Saturday at breakfast, Reid declared, “Let’s have pizza for supper. It’s my turn to choose.” This was not related to anything we’d been discussing but seemed a burning issue to her. I wonder what we’d eaten recently that she hadn’t liked. When she doesn’t like what I’ve served, I sometimes tell her that it’s unfortunate that she doesn’t like it but Person X does and it was her/his turn to choose. She has figured out that it’s all about being the one to choose. Next she’ll have to learn about the limits of our pantry and the list of suppers I write out to help us decide. Those are lessons for another day, I guess.