You win some, you lose some

This morning at the breakfast table Adrian was alternating between taking bites of his waffles and syrup and playing with his absurd new toy...a bulldog with fruit on it's head (that actually smells like fruit? weird) from the dreaded "Old McMcDonald's  (that's what he calls McDonald's)

When it fell to the floor and rolled under the table he whined, "Mumma...get that."

Me eyebrows all raised (you know - giving "the look")  "Excuse me?"

Whinging continues "Mumma, can you get that...pleeeeease?"

Me "What's wrong with your legs?"

Adrian "They're broken"

Me "Oh, well I guess we have to take you to the hospital then and you won't be able to play outside or ride your bike for a very, very, loooong time"

Adrian....thinking.

Me "Are you're legs still broken?"

Adrian "No" as he slides under the table and retrieves his toy.

HA.  I win.

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Finley munching away on his cheerios abruptly decides he's done.  He starts to squeal and squirm in his booster seat.

Me "Finley, are you all done?" making the hand sign for all done.

I'm wondering if this child of mine will ever learn to say something....anything (that is actually a word and not nonsensical babble) or do a simple sign for that matter.

Finley continues to squirm and squeal even louder.

Me doing the hand sign for all done again, "All done?"

More squealing, higher pitched and louder.

"All done Fin?" still doing the freakin' hand sign

He's ticked now!

BAH.

I give up.

He wins.