Observations on meal planning for the brutal preschooler

Me, driving Jackson to school: "What do you want for dinner tonight?"
Jackson: "Chicken, cheese, salt."
Me: "Mmmm. And what do you drink with that?"
Jackson: "Rootbeer."

The other day I watched Jackson give his best friend a bloody nose. Then he laughed, because it was kind of funny, but maybe only if you stage a lot of cheap backyard rasslin' matches, like we do. But seriously, I was horrified. Even though twenty minutes later Jackson and his little buddy were playing together like nothing happened.

So yesterday I drop Jackson off and right away he runs up to his friend Caitlin. Often when Jackson and Caitlin first see each other they give each other a little tentative, awkward hug (because their heads are so big and their arms are so short, something's bound to collide). But right away today Jackson's on Caitlin's nerves. So Caitlin gives Jackson a big fat push. She can't knock him down, he's got at least five pounds on her, so I'm all set to holler, Belt her one, Jackson, she started it! But the teacher comes up right away and says, "Use your words, sweetie, don't push." And they're over it, just like that. If I have a fight with Jack, it takes me like a week after the stitches come out to calm down, but these kids, they're like rubber, they bounce right back.