Chocolate

We stopped by this wonderful little French bakery in the piano teacher's neighborhood while her sisters were taking their lessons.  It had been a long week and I thought a little treat was in order (more for myself than for this little one).  I picked out a dainty chocolate cup of thick, dense mousse.  When I sat down at the table with my little side-kick, she eyed the pretty chocolate cup of goodness.  I offered her a bite and she didn't stop until the delectable treat was almost gone.  She was intent and focused on getting large forkfuls of the chocolate into her mouth without spilling.  When she had almost finished the treat, she shoved the plate aross the table and exclaimed, "Here Momma, I don't like chocolate."  I was flabbergasted and stunned at her admission.  When I pushed the plate back and said, "Yes, you do like chocolate," she looked at me and said, "No, Momma.  I don't like chocolate."  

What a funny little thing to say after eating most of my dessert.  

As I finished the last few bites of the mutilated dessert on the plate, she sat still with a mouth smeared in chocolate and smiled.  I was struck with such laughter at her funny little personality.