White Dog was being difficult about eating dinner and was heading back behind her chair to pout. During the past days of hectic-ness and rushing, the White Dog Army had enjoyed the sinful pleasure of premium canned food instead of their usual made by momma and Steve fish, vegetables, rice and blueberries. Now that we are, thus far, living a normal week, we cooked and froze a week's worth of their usual menu.
I stopped her and whispered, "Dad is craving ice cream, be ready." That was sufficient for her. When Steve briskly walked through the living room, car keys in hand, she bounded ahead of him to go along. Puff and Nuka figured it out as Steve hit the threshold and lept like gazelles but didn't quite make it out before the door shut. They stood waiting until WD and Steve returned carrying a takeout bag from Chillz.
Steve got spoons and everyone gathered around. White Dog was told she had to eat her dinner first and stubbornly went and laid in the bedroom as if she didn't care about the ice cream. The rest of the WDA each enjoyed a spoonful or two. We called WD back out and again gave her the chance to eat her meal and have the treat that Steve had saved in the bottom of his cup but she refused (and then watched with "those" eyes as Steve scooped out the last bites and enjoyed them).
I can tell our obstinate Little Miss is regretting her hardline stance but that she is too prideful to back down now. Meanwhile the rest of the WDA are wiggy-waggy happy from their surprise and do not understand my caution that they should tone down their joy.