A couple of weeks ago, Benjamin and I some how got into a conversation about jobs and how food companies have tasters to ensure quality (yes, this is the level of conversation I have these days with Ben when we aren’t talking about Star Wars). So, he says to me, “Daddy, I bet you would really like to be a chocolate taster!”
I laughed and told him “No” due to the fact that I would get really fat because I wouldn’t be able to stop eating it. We laughed about it for a while then we really didn’t mention it afterwards.
Last Friday, we went to a baseball game and this really heavy man sat down in front of him. Ben quickly turned to me, from three seats away, and yelled, “Daddy, do you think he is a chocolate taster?”