I told my son Alex that he needed to eat some more of his mother's delicious home-made chicken soup (which he ate without complaint two nights previous) before he could leave the table and get back to his homework . . . it was one of those ugly Tuesday nights . . . and so Alex put his spoon down, dipped his index finger into his soup bowl, licked his index finger -- which in his mind counted as "eating some more soup" -- and then he excused himself from the table, and I'm proud to say that once I processed what he did -- which took a moment -- I did not strangle, beat, spindle, or mutilate my firstborn son (but my head nearly exploded and there may have been some yelling).