Popsicles.

A few days ago, Emmi saw me replenish my tampon supply in my purse. I grabbed a few before I headed out the door, sliding them into the interior pocket. Her eyes lit up. "POPSICLE!" No matter what, I couldn't convince her it wasn't a popsicle. We fought about. She cried. Days later, I thought she had forgotten.

Kenny went to go meet his crew at the shop. Jill begged to go along. She loves going with him, afterall she too is going to "be a landscaper when she grows up." Emmi was ticked that she couldn't go. It is just too hard to watch her there. As the door shut behind Kenny and Jill, I leaned close to Emmi and whispered, "I have a treat for you." I intended to give her a piece of chocolate I had hidden away as a surprise, since she was so upset about not getting to go. And yes, I bribe my kids with food. Specifically chocolate. Let their therapists solve that one later in life, okay? Emmi ran ahead of me to the kitchen, straight for my purse. While I was busy locating the hidden chocolate, Emmi rummaged through my purse. She found what she was after and squealed with delight, her little feet tap dancing around the kitchen.

Curious, I abandoned my search for chocolate to see what had made Emmi so happy.

Proudly, Emmi held her beloved item up. She grinned. "POPSICLE!"