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I hate to make rice crispy treats. I've made them three times in my life and each time something has gone horrendously wrong. I know they are easy and I'm apparently deficient, but that's how it goes. So I don't make them. Have never even attempted them since I've had kids.

At the grocery this week I decided to buy a package of individually wrapped rice crispy treats. Yesterday Simon asked for them for snack so after they had fruit I said okay. I took note that the box had eight so that meant they could each have one on two different days, so that worked out well, except that I didn't get one. Then I figured since I had to open Jesse's I'd take a bite of his. He's little and doesn't need the whole thing anyway.

That is just what I did. He watched me take a bite and started to get upset that he wasn't getting one and then got over it instantly when I handed it to him. All was well.

A minute or so later Jesse held up his arms to me so I'd pick him up. He was still eating his treat and was happy as a clam. He put his face right up with mine and held his little empty hand out, palm up, between us and said, "Spit. It. Out."

I said, "What?" Not sure of what he was saying or talking about.

He said again, very distinctly, "Spit. It. Out."

I about spit on him I was laughing so hard.

He wanted me to spit out the bite of rice crispy treat I had taken so he could have it. I laughed and laughed, which got him laughing, and told him it was all gone. Then we were both laughing so he was still happy even though I couldn't spit it out and give it back.

That boy!