Pizza is a powerful motivator.

Tonight we ordred Pizza for dinner (I love free-days) and Robert sat munching his usual, non-greasy, non-tomato, non-cheesy food. As I enjoyed my piece, he whined and grunted and whined some more indicating that he wanted what I had. Now, I've gotten a lot more lax with #3 than I ever was with Mary and William, but pizza is still on my list of no-nos for a baby. He really started throwing a fit over this pizza when suddenly, for the first time, he put his tiny hands together in the sign for "more." I was obliged at this point to dig a soft piece of sauce-free crust from the center from my slice and present it to him. I'm really becoming a softy in my old age, but how do you refuse a little sign language??