Hungry, Hungry Hebrew

Last night was not our finest hour as a family.
Dave and I came home cranky because I had a bad call Wednesday night, neither of us slept much, and neither of us had particularly good Thursdays.  Traffic was atrocious so getting home from work was struggle.  Rain + wind + someone seizing on the sidewalk = Nate being the last child to be picked up from day care.  He's always out of sorts when this happens and I don't blame him.  I can tell you from experience that there is something about being the last child left standing that makes you start to wonder if your parents are ever coming.  Maybe they got in an accident or maybe they just forgot.  So then we were all running late and dinner was late and Nate got too hungry - grumpy, uncooperative, plus complaining that "Nate tubby hurts".
I'm sure that anyone with kids has had an evening like this.  And maybe we're not the only ones who break our own rules because we think it'll make things a tiny bit easier?  Well, anyway, that was my rationale when I let Nate sit in my lap to eat dinner - something we just don't do.
For a few minutes it did seem to be better.  Nate stopped talking about Mommy holding him and started at least talking about what was on his plate.  He was lovingly fingering a small piece of matzoh.  We even let him dip it in his yogurt.  Oh, the forbidden pleasures.
And then the decision that was to change the course of the evening.  Nate held out his yogurt covered matzoh.
Nathan: "Mommy bite."
Mommy: "No, honey, mommy doesn't want your matzoh."
Nathan: "Mommy bite!"
Mommy: "No, really, honey, it's for Nate."
Nathan: "Mommy bite this please."
Mommy: "Oh, OK" accepting the tiniest sliver of coconut milk yogurt infused matzoh.
The last moment of silence of the evening, and then
Nathan: "Gimme that matzoh."
Mommy: "Sorry, Nate.  It's all gone in Mommy's tummy."
Nathan: "My matzoh.  Gimme that matzoh please." (Gimme, by the way, is a very recent addition to his vocabulary, and one I can definitely do without)
Mommy: "I can't, honey, it's just all gone."
Nathan: (Now trying to physically reach into my mouth) "Nate need that matzoh.  My matzoh."
So started the longest, loudest, and on some level, most amusing temper tantrum that Nate has ever treated us to.  There was crying and screaming.  There were increasingly incoherent pleas for matzoh back.  He continued to try to reach into my mouth to retrieve it.
I ran the gamut from ignoring to reasoning to giggling hysterically at his fairly comic distress.
Eventually I just took him upstairs and put his pajamas on.
Eventually he managed to eat a little dinner.
Eventually, far past his bedtime, he went to bed.
The first thing he said to me this morning?
"Mommy eat Nate's matzoh and Nate crying and crying."
Well, yes, that does pretty much sum it up.