Anaya came to me at lunch with olives on all of her fingertips. "Mommy, which finger to you choose?" She pointed to two. "You have to choose this one or this one."
"Okay, I choose that one."
"No, you have to choose the other one."
"Then you are choosing, not me."
"No, I don't want to choose! I want you to choose. But you have to choose THIS one."