It seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway after we proclaimed it we had to stick with the rule. You know what they say about being consistent. Go ahead and be wrong, but at least do it every time.

The rule was that you had to eat most of your vegetables to get dessert. It sounded like something I had read in a parenting book back when I was still researching the project and not raising actual children. 

The glitch was, the vegetable de jour was one of my daughter's most detestables, limas, and she was not biting. This was the obligation between her and an especially decadent lemon meringue pie. I had made it in a binge of domesticity and was dying to see their lip smacking reactions. But I could not slide a slice in front of her until the limas disappeared. I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to. I offered a compromise.

Half of the pile would suffice.

Nope. 

How about two spoonfuls?

Head shaking. 

One bean?

Then I realized. This is how God feels about me. 

He has delicious things He wants to give me, if only I will swallow the less appetizing course first. Speaking kindly  to my husband when we are late is one lima that comes to mind. Forgiveness when he loses things is another. 
"Come on," God coaxes. "Can't you eat just two bites?"

But stubbornness and starvation somehow seem more palatable than a few beans, even with lemony pie in sight. 

Being respectful to my spouse is sweeter even than dessert. God cooked up warmheartedness in His kitchen, eagerly anticipating my face as I taste it. I have a hunch it will be worth a plateful of "I am sorry"s and "May I help you look?"s to be served that pièce de résistance.

I will let you know. For now I still have some chewing to do.