We had some kids pop in this evening after dinner. Well, it was after our dinner, not theirs. At 7pm you would assume most people with young children have had a meal or at least a few appetizers but that doesn’t seem to stop kids from asking “anything ta eat?” the second they arrive on Schlotzhauer soil.

I used to be confused by this behaviour but my own kids are the guiltiest of all.

We could be roaming the neighbourhood, riding our bikes, looking at swans in a pond but the minute a new person enters the scene, their minds are on how to bilk them out of some sort of snack or beverage.

Does food taste better when served by someone else? I know that’s true of sandwiches. Does another person’s bottled water taste smoother, cleaner, cooler?

Kids will go back to the same cookie jar if they know it is open. I made the mistake early on of serving lemonade when kids dropped in and like Pavlovian puppies, they began to sourly salivate the second crocs met driveway.

It never ends with one glass, one freezie, one homemade cookie. This is just the beginning. They know there is food, they know you are serving, there is a chance for seconds so why not ask?

I doled out popsicles tonight but not before sending the kids home to ask permission. I do this for a couple of reasons; 1) so the parents know what their kids are eating should there be any allergies (like grapefruit vodka mixed with most medications), 2) so the parents are aware of our giving nature and may one day return the favour when our children do the “help, I’m starving” dance across the border.

Me: All done your popsicle?

Boy age 7: All done this one.

Smart

Boy age 4: Anything else ta eat?

When you’re four, you say what’s on your mind.

My own children could stuff themselves silly with dinner to the point they can barely crawl over to the door to get their shoes to embark on an evening stroll, but the minute we see a giving neighbour with a history of creamsicle kindness, their stomachs are suddenly empty and the begging or at least, clever line of questioning begins.

Kids: Hi neighbour. Remember those delicious ice cream bars you gave us last time we were here?

Neighbour: Stunned pause.

Kids: They were really good

Neighbour: Awkward stare at me

Me: looking at flower beds, using hibiscus petals as ear-muffs as though the plants have deafened me

Neighbour: Would you guys like another ice cream bar?

Kids: Well…. (I always laugh when they start with “well” because what they really want to say is “Hell Yeah!” but those words are not in their vocabulary so they shuffle their feet, while looking adorably at the ground and always making the generous neighbour think it was their idea), okay.

I don’t remember these negotiating tactics on the grade one curriculum but somewhere, these kids have learned how to seal the deal. Candyland?