OP

One of my favorite books chronicles the (mis)adventures of the U.S. Ski team through a few years during the 90's.  AJ Kitt, one of the better skiers, (arguably the best of the bunch), was a bit of a rogue to the traditional ways of doing things.  Everybody was going to run a few miles and lift weights?  He'd use the elliptical and do some push-ups.

His team took to calling him O.P.  This stood for Own Program.  But he got the desired results, so no one fussed too much.

Now, I have three kids, almost four.  My first is a compliant, easy-going kid who, while she's a typical kid and balks at the conventional when it doesn't suit her, generally does what she's told.  

Then there's my second born.  You're all familiar with Miss Caly (2) and her tendency to be... um...  high spirited?  Yeah.  

I sometimes find myself looking at her as she's in the throes of some antic or another and saying, "What. The. HECK."

She's something else.

A few weeks ago, we went to dinner where we ordered a family special.  I figured there was something there to appease everyone... a pizza, breadsticks, a salad and some lasagna.  Caly had recently been making her intense dislike of "Sauce NOODLES" known but I figured she'd eat some salad and bread or pizza crust.

Of course, (OF COURSE), when the meal arrived, she got her plate, looked at it, and said, "But... but Mama, I don't LIKE sauce noodles."  I told her to eat the other stuff on her plate.  And true to her nature, she ate nothing.  But to her credit, she sat somewhat quietly.  After awhile, I tried to encourage her to eat again, but she was having none of it.  So she got Shaun's attention.  "Daddy?  Daddy?  DADDY!?  I don't like sauce noodles!"  He was trying to have another conversation* and took her lasagna noodle and absentmindedly wiped the sauce off with his fork.  He handed it over to Caly who speared it with her fork, looked at it skeptically, and said,

"There is still sauce on my noodle."  And then she put it down.  Shaun tossed her a napkin and told her to wipe it off.  She did for a minute before getting completely frustrated.  "MAMA!  DAAAADDY!  'SCUZE ME! DADDY!! I can't get the sauce off of my noodle!"

Shaun was finally exasperated enough to say, "Caly, I don't care what you do with the noodle.  If you don't want it, fine.  If you want to eat it, I don't know....  why don't you lick the sauce off?"  And with that, he started to turn back around.

What did Caly do?  Take a wild guess.

She sat there for a full five minutes and licked every tiny speck of sauce off of that noodle.  When she was done, she gleefully lifted her forked noodle in the air for all to see before declaring,

"NOW my noodle doesn't have anymore sauce!"

And then she ate every bite.

Own. Program.

*(we're working on the interrupting factor.  She's 2. We have three kids.  We'll get there one day).