As I picked up Brooklyn from school the other day, I noticed that she was chewing on her shirt sleave. Oh no, I thought. Here it starts. The number of times that my own mother had to tell me to stop chewing on my sleeves surely numbered in the thousands.
I should have known, however, that with Brooklyn, a simple "don't do it" wouldn't suffice. She has an answer to everything.
Me: Brooklyn, please stop chewing on your sleeve.
Brooklyn: But Mom, it's so soggy and yummy and juicy!
What do you with a child who unabashedly loves sleeve juice?