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Eating dinner with a toddler is never uneventful. And usually, I love it. Z keeps us laughing, singing, cleaning up messes (that's the part that's harder to love sometimes)... and reminding us of the many ways we're still like toddlers at heart. A few nights ago, however, his hankering to ask for "more chicken!!" before he was done with what was already on his plate (which was quite a bit) had us feeling somewhat irritated. Though he had a plate full of freshly smoked chicken (thanks, Mitchell :)) cut to the perfect bite-sized pieces... it didn't seem to be enough.  "Eat what you have on your plate! You have some right here!" We'd say.  But the asks kept coming: more salt... more ketchup... more chicken. "Moorrrre!!" He'd say emphatically, while also reaching his little arm as far towards the serving dish as possible, slapping his adorably chunky toddler fingers down on the table. I can't blame him for enjoying his Dad's smo...