Sending the plate back to the kitchen twice

"Yeah, but that's plastic. I don't care if it's for teething, and I'm teething. I don't put anything in my mouth other than a nummy. Not food, not plastic, not nothing." Beren, November 2011 

Tonight, Beren looked down at his plate and announced, "This tofu is not orange."

Jared, this evening's chef, said, "No, it's not. I forgot the turmeric." While Jared was cooking, Beren had requested "orange" tofu. Jared had assured him that we had the stuff that makes tofu orange.

Beren insisted on orange tofu. We all brought our plates back to the kitchen and scraped the tofu back in to the skillet. Jared added a sprinkling of turmeric and tossed the tofu around. "Not orange enough," Beren said. Jared dumped the rest of the powdered root into the skillet and dished out the food.

Beren happily stuffed two forkfuls of noodles, peas, tofu, and turmeric in a satay sauce into his mouth. Then, he scowled.

"What the heck," he said.

Jared and I looked at each other. "What the heck. I have a white plate. What the heck. Why do I have a white plate?" Beren demanded.

Jared smiled, "He didn't learn that from me."

"Why do I have a white plate?" Beren asked again. "Would you like my plate?" I asked showing him my pink plate. "Yes," he said. As I traded my plate for his, Beren said, "More noodles, I want more noodles."

Jared and I began to laugh and laugh and laugh until Beren began to smile and we could see orange tofu in his mouth.