Riley the Moocher

We have a mooch in the house now.  Each child has a job so to speak.  Hannah is phasing out of being "The Informer."  Cooper is beginning to fill that role nicely, as her favorite words are "Mommy, Riley did (enter the crime here)."  Riley is "The Moocher." 

Anyway, no food is safe from her and no one is able to eat a meal without interruption.  Little grubby hands reach for your plate while you hear the constant "mmmmmmmmmmm, mmmmmmmm,mmmmmmmmmmmmmm."  Every meal is the same.  I have an example.

Each and every morning Cooper makes her breakfast, and then she makes something for Riley.  It is normally something she can toss in the toaster or microwave.  Whether it is a waffle, or a soggy frozen pancake, Cooper makes them both something to eat while Ashley gets dressed for work.  Riley eats her food and then sees what Cooper is eating.  No matter what it is, and even if they are eating the same thing, Riley must have it.  She will drop her own breakfast that her sister lovingly made her and immediately run with her arms extended and fingers wiggling to grab Cooper's food.

All one hears from the bedroom is "Riley eat your own food," or "Riley that's mine."  "Mommy."  Cooper whines and cries for assistance to fight off her baby sister's attack on her groceries.  It is useless and her resistance is futile.  But at least they haven't gone to blows over a soggy, cold toaster waffle.  That would just be silly.

Cooper is not the only subject of the attack.  Mommy and daddy cannot eat without grabby hands.  Yesterday morning I took the girls to school.  Ashley was already gone to work and I finished getting everyone dressed and ready to go.  Cooper had already made Riley's breakfast and I made Cooper's.  Both had already eaten.  Actually, Cooper nibbled on her food while Riley repeatedly tried to take it.  This is of course after already eating all of her own breakfast. 

I took a peek to see if it was safe for me to enter the kitchen.  I was starving and wanted to eat something quick.  I remembered there was a sole banana left on the counter so I made a break for it.  I think Riley smelled the banana from across the house because I heard running footsteps headed my direction.  As the footsteps get closer I hear "nana, nana, nana, nana, nana..."  She knew what I had. 

With the attack on my breakfast imminent, I quickly, and feverishly began to eat the banana hoping to keep it all for myself.  That sounds bad, but my daughters don't miss any meals.  They are healthy.  Anyway, Riley rounds the refrigerator and sees what I am eating so I stuff the remaining third of the banana into my mouth and using sign language I tell her it is all gone.  She looked heartbroken that her loving daddy did not want to share.  Knowing she had already eaten, I felt okay about it and even chuckled a bit.

Riley is at the age apparently that everything should be hers.  She has yet to begin taking things by force, but that time is near.  In the meantime I suppose Cooper will have to go on fighting her off so she can eat, or start hiding to eat her breakfast in peace.  The moocher will always be near by.