Great Moments in Parenthood, Part 3

This past Thursday, my son and I set off for our little adventure. We went on a whirlwind tour of a town we might move to this summer. We visited some schools and enjoyed being together.

But after three whole days of flying, interviews and tests, my son was really looking forward to a "Mexican grilled cheese" (known to the rest of the world as a cheese quesadilla) during our layover at George Bush International on our way home.

So when he was only half finished and tipped his plate onto the floor and started crying in grief, I had absolutely no qualms about picking his tortilla up off the floor, wiping it off and handing it back to him.

"It didn't hit the floor. I caught it," I lied because he wouldn't eat it otherwise.

What would you have done?