Practically from day one of solid foods, we've relied heavily on finger foods for Michael. He's always had a thing about spoon-feeding: he's never been a fan.
I suspect that it's always been an issue of independence for him; there are certain things that he just wants to do himself. Thankfully, he's almost got the fine motor skills to add the use of fork and spoon to a growing list of things he can accomplish, but he's got a ways to go before he can really do so with much accuracy or finesse.
Therefore, while I'm happy to let him practice to his heart's content on slightly moist things like rice or pasta, I'm loathe to take the same chance with near-liquid fare, such as yogurt. It's hard enough to keep up with the usual wreckage of the floor around his chair; I certainly don't want to add the frequent scrubbing of walls and ceilings to my long list of chores. However, Tom had just brought home some Greek yogurt that he mixed with honey and fresh raspberries to Abby's great delight, and wanted to offer the same treat to Michael.
He hoped, as has sometimes worked before, that Michael would simply acquiesce to the feeding. He did not. The next approach was to offer Michael his own spoon, in an attempt to both distract and empower him. This was not an acceptable compromise, apparently.
Once Michael saw that there were two spoons available, he had to have both. And so, Tom had to do a thing we've been less and less resistant to doing as the children have grown in number and years: he let go.
Much to our surprise, there was no unfortunate consequence of yogurt splattered on
the wall, ceiling, or even floor. There was just a happy (albeit messy)
little boy, who made use of each spoon in turn...
... and sometimes both at once.
Pride, joy, amusement, and a nearly assistance-free lunch: all in exchange for two measly spoons.
Maybe next time, I'll give him three.