My two year old grandson loves pickles. He will usually choose a pickle rather than a cookie, even though he is ecstatic when he has a cookie in his hand. Riley doesn't talk yet, though he is starting to a little, but he comes and grabs my hand to lead me to the fridge. He puts my hand on the fridge door handle and when I open it, he reaches in for the jar of pickles. His mom says it is a weird expereince waking up to a two year old with horrendous garlic breath from eating half a jar of pickles the night before.
He is, garlic breath and all, a sweet, cuddly little ray of sunshine in my life.
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