There was a lot going on at the table so it took a while for me to realize that Lydia was rolled over on her back struggling with a tube of yogurt. I watched her for a few second, completely baffled about what was going on. It was like watching a monkey struggle to eat a small snake.
Finally, I placed my hand on her shoulder, “Lydia! Lydia, stop it. Stop!”
Her body relaxed and she sat up, “What?”
“What?” I echoed back. “What do you mean, what? What are you doing?”
She held up the plastic sleeve of yogurt. “I’m trying to open my yogurt.”
I took the limp object out of her hand and examined the end of it. “That’s not how you open a tube of yogurt. You are going to end up making it explode and you will be covered in yogurt. I’m not going to spend 30 minutes in a McDonald’s restroom trying to give you a bath in their sink.” I shuddered at the thought.
“Here,” I said, since she was starting to frown and stare longingly at the yogurt in my hand. “This is how you open a tube of yogurt. Very gently hold one hand here. And then hold the other hand here.”
She focused intently on the placement of my hands. “Then what?”
“Then you pull with this hand in this direction, and you pull with this other hand in the other!”
She looked back and forth between me and the yogurt tube a few times in mild shock. “Wait that’s it?”
“But that’s just how you tear something,” she said matter-of-factly. “Why didn’t you say so? Dad, I know how to tear things.”
Of course. How could I have been so stupid as to spend any amount of time explaining to Lydia how to tear something. If there was one skill she was good at…
I tossed the yogurt back to her and she immediately ripped the top off and sucked half the tube into her mouth while giving me a weird thumbs up sign. I sighed and turned back to my lunch only to discover that a little man had eaten all of my french fries while my back was turned.