Ali was fussing while I made dinner. He wanted to ride his bike, but I couldn't help him pump up the tires. He wanted to ride the scooter, but it was in the back yard (having spent some time getting a snow treatment) and he needed it in the front yard.
I explained that I was busy and I couldn't stop cooking. Usually that would make for a lot of whining, but he was remarkably cheerful about it. "You are so busy cooking that you don't have time to cook?" he asked me, laughing at his own joke. And when I took a moment to open the garage door for him, he asked me, "but is dinner going to burn?" I assured him it wasn't.
Luckily it didn't- tonight it was a family favorite- shrimp pasta. Not surprisingly, Ali doesn't like it. So he had leftover "nothings." (What he first named last night's meat pastries.)