"Finn, baby, you need to eat."
"But I weally want to play wiff my new fishin' pole, Mama!"
Annie represses a sigh and continues trying to convince her son to see things her way. "Yes, I know. But how're you going to get big and strong if you don't eat?"
The boy shrugs, a pitiful frown on his face.
He'd been staring down at his green square dinner plate for the past ten minutes, absolutely refusing to eat. He never used to do this, not until he got his first fishing pole. That's all he's wanted to do is fish.
Just like his daddy.
Getting quite frustrated with her baby boy, Annie tried a different approach, yet it was a little more difficult for her. "Finn, baby, how do you think your daddy got to be such a good fisher?"
"Lots'a pwactice! I need'a go pwactice, too!"
Annie shakes her head, a slight smile on her face. While she's proud of her son's ambition, her motherly instincts are telling her that this is what's good for him. "Not just that, Finny. Daddy always ate his dinner like a good boy. All of his vegetables, too. He was big and healthy, just like you want to be."
Finn's cute little nose scrunched up at the mention of vegetables, and he let out a dramatic sigh, staring down his fish sticks and fries with a look of hatred on his face.
"Let's make a deal, shall we?" Annie offers, sitting down at the table with her son. "Eat two of your fish sticks, seven of your fries, and five scoops of corn. Then, we can go fishing. Deal?"
With a quite comical look of contemplation on his face, Finn continues to look down at his food. After a couple of minutes, he nods and holds his hand out for a shake. "'S a deal, mama," he says resolutely.
After quickly scarfing down his food, proving to Annie that he really was hungry, Finn and his mama went out back to their lake.
He even caught his third fish.
Annie can't even begin to imagine how proud Finnick would be of both of them.