When Aidan was a wee babe - well, not just then, but basically his whole life - if there was food in front of him, he was content.
Vic and I would haughtily giggle at harried parents in restaurants with kids screaming and trying to get out of their chairs, running circles around the table, while our little guy just sat there quietly.
If he KNEW food was coming, he wasn’t moving. When it was there, he was eating. And after it left, he was happy to sit there and digest for awhile.
.
.
.
.
Not so his little sister.
This one would subsist on fruit and bread. She eats, but only a little. And she CERTAINLY isn’t going to give up on good activity time to eat it.
To Ava, a meal should last no more than 5 minutes, then it’s time to run again.
Last night Vic decided we should go to Ted’s Montana Grill so he could get a Buffalo burger.
We walked in all happy, Aidan sat down, we tried to put Ava in her highchair…and there it was.
She stiffened and screamed at the absolute, ear-piercing top of her lungs.
(I do have to admit the faces on the nearby diners was PRICELESS as they wondered whether we’d stay or go).
Left we did. Aidan was *not* pleased. We went to family-friendly Barnacles instead. Where Ava spent the entire meal crawling around the booth and running from video game to video game. Her dinner was of no interest.
So…karma.
Or, as Vic said, "It just means we employ our babysitters more often."
Love that man.
Here’s a picture. No, it’s not of her eating *or* having a tantrum, but with her bucket of chalk in one hand and her cup tucked under her arm, you can definitely tell she’s not one to be messed with. 
