Sam + broken baked goods = BAD NEWS

Sam slept until 8:30 this morning (Yea!) when I had to wake him up because we needed to leave for Bible study at church. He was not happy to be awakened. I told him we had to go right away, and he wanted something to eat.

J: We can eat in the van. You can pick a snack to eat on the way.
S: I want to eat at home.
J: We can't. We can drive through McDonalds and get an apple pie if you want to.
S: But I don't want it to break. (Sam has this thing with his baked goods having to be completely intact to be eaten. If part of a muffin or cookie breaks off, it is a tragedy. And then last time he tried to eat an apple pie in the van we had MAJOR issues. I always try to convince him they taste the same broken as they do whole, but he is not convinced.)
J: Then pick a snack you can eat on the way. We are leaving.
S: I know! I need a plate. Then it will be perfect.
J: Fine, we can take a plate and you can put your apple pie on it and it won't break. Get your crocs on.

Now, I have no idea why I thought this plan would actually work. I guess I was just happy to get him to agree to get moving.

So - we get the apple pie, put it on the plate, and I think all is well. I was wrong.

S: IT'S HOT! IT'S HOT!
J: Then wait for it to cool off.
S: I WANT TO EAT IT!
J: Do you want me to break it in 2 pieces so it can cool faster?
S: NO!
J: Then you will just have to wait.
S: O-kay.......break it to cool off.

I am quite impressed with the kid. This is MAJOR progress since he just agreed to have his apple pie broken on purpose. I figure we really are good to go now, since he seems to have overcome his aversion to broken baked goods. A few minutes go by, and then I hear a scream.

J: What's wrong?
S: IT'S BROKEN! IT'S BROKEN!
J: I know. Remember I broke it to cool it off.
S: NO - IT BROKE IN MORE PIECES! (He attempts to fuse two small pieces together and is actually semi-successful. He moves it back towards his mouth when it breaks apart again and more crying ensues. Loud crying - like he just got a limb or two ripped off. This child is being completely ridiculous.)
J: (Said at a lull in the ruckus) Either eat it or give it to me and stop crying.

We go back and forth a few times with him crying and me telling him to eat it or hand it over, and he finally drops the pieces into my outstretched palm, though he is still hysterical. I offer a couple times to give him the pieces one at a time so then he won't have to think about the fact that it is broken, and all I get is a dirty look and him turning to stare out the window and pretend not to hear me. Like any logical person, I decide that it should not go to waste, pop the rest of it in my mouth, and turn up the radio really loud to attempt to drown him out. He is so amazed at the volume from the front of the van that he actually stops crying....until I look back at him and he cranks it up again.

We get to church. Tears are streaming down his face and there is a lot of drama as I drop him off at the nursery. He figures out once I am gone there is no use in crying, and has a marvelous time for the next hour and a half. And then we get back in the van to go home and starts crying again.

About this time I am on the phone with my dad and tell him the whole story. His response: Are you going to get him another apple pie? I tell him there is no way I am getting Sam another apple pie, which Sam overhears and then starts crying for another one. We get past that, and a few minutes later he pipes up again.

S: I want my pieces.
J: What?
S: I want my apple pie pieces.
J: (Laughing out loud) Dude - your pieces are gone. I ate them. They are in my tummy.
S: I want them out.
J: You can't. They are in my tummy.
S: I get them out. They are stuck in your bellybutton.
J: Really? How are you going to get them out?
S: (Very matter of fact) With a fishing pole.
J: Won't that hurt me?
S: Nope. (He casts his imaginary fishing pole, reels it in, and pretends to munch on his apple pie pieces.) Yummy.

I can not believe he solved this whole thing 2 hours later by pretending to retrieve the PIECES from my bellybutton, and is now completely happy eating a broken apple pie that does not exist.