Jack loves applesauce, but is hesitant to eat it unless it is decorated with approximately 74 sprinkles. (We have had many arguments over how many sprinkles are TOO many.) Usually he's pretty amenable to getting any sprinkles at all (after a particularly nasty incident) and we use this as leverage to get him to eat the other, more nutritious things on his plate. As in, yes you can have sprinkles if you finish your fried okra and catfish. JUST KIDDING. He doesn't eat fish. KIDDING AGAIN.
Tonight we bartered some bites of steak for sprinkles, and Dan teased him that there weren't any left, holding up a mostly empty sprinkle container. Jack looked over to me with his head tilted down, through his eyebrows in a kind of creepy manner, and said, "yes there are" in a growl-y voice.
"Whoa Children of the Corn!" I laughed.
Well, Jack thought that this was hilarious, and for the rest of the evening he was chanting, "Children of the Cor-in, Jack of the Cor-in!" Because extra syllables are requirement in Southern linguistics.
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