How a Father Taught His Son the Art of Eating Well

Hey love, youve got to hear how Tom finally got little Oliver to actually eat properly. When Oliver was three, he was a total mess at mealtimes I had to drag him to the kitchen yelling, and the nursery staff kept moaning. Every meal turned into a drama. One day I had to go on a work trip, so it was just Tom and the lad at home.

Tom sat Oliver down and said, Dont go overdoing it at nursery. The fridge is empty at home. Later that evening, Emma, Olivers aunt, gave him a pat on the back he even managed to finish a little extra at lunch. When Tom collected him from nursery, Oliver piped up:

Whats for dinner?
Nothing. You ate at nursery.
Im hungry. Mum made soup yesterday.
We already finished the soup, the pot in the sink is empty, Tom replied.

Oliver stripped off his jumper, washed his hands and sprinted to the fridge.

Dad, there are eggs!
Shall I scramble one?
No, two!
What about potatoes?
Ill do it! I want potatoes! he shouted, all thrilled.

That night he gobbled everything like a maniac. When I got back, the usual tugofwar started again Im thinking I might need to borrow a few psychology tricks from Tom!