Prelude to Dinner

From Zoe's Daddy:

So I'm starting dinner Tuesday night, with Kim about 15 minutes from being home. Zoe comes stomping in (as per normal it's-almost-dinnertime behavior) and meanders about the kitchen for a minute or two, perusing the lower cabinet doors and the bottom edges of the countertops. After a bit, she points towards the upper cabinets and makes an indistinct proclamation in a sort of 20 month-old mumbled fashion. I agree and continue my prep work. Zoe is completely unsatisfied with my response, points in the general direction of the corner cabinet once more and says, more fervently and distinctly, "Na."

I stop and look at her. "Na?"

She looks back... possibly she rolls her eyes slightly. Dad isn't so quick sometimes, you see. Once more she points, obviously to the corner counter/cabinet area, and states in something of a more imperial tone "Na." Beat. Point. "Na... NA-NA!!" As I'm glancing around the countertop and cabinet area, it occurs to me that I may actually know what she's wanting, but it seems doubtful, since from her angle she'd barely be able to see it. I shrug and snag it anyway, presenting it to her in proper unsure-parent fashion. "Is this what you want?"

Smile. "Na-NA." Another beat, then she rubs her belly. "Peeeeez!" Oh, without a doubt, this is what she wants, and she does an about-face and heads to her high chair.

Her prize? A banana.