Cake

So, you take one small child and a square of chocolate cake with chocolatey butter-cream icing. You put them both together and see what happens.
It was nice cake, very nice cake indeed. Andy made it, with a little bit of help from me. By that I mean he used my recipe, I told him exactly what to do and when to do it and I spent most of the time hovering around behind him to make sure he did it right.
It was good, melt in the mouth, moist sponge. The icing was just the right amount of gooey to be nice, but not too rich. Joseph loves it and it shows all over his face.
He takes a piece and picks it up between thumb and forefinger in the most dainty way possible, even his little finger pokes up in the manner of a maiden aunt drinking her tea. He takes a delicate nibble, and then another.
At this point, a connection is made in the brain. It probably says - "Oh, I remember this stuff. I like this stuff."
From there, all manners are off. Chocolate cake exists for one purpose and one only, to see just how much of it can be stuffed into a small mouth. Never mind that the piece in question is too big to fit, there will be some collateral damage around the cheeks but it does not matter. If the cake still stubbornly refuses to fit in the mouth then the over hanging portions can be dropped and then poked for a bit until the mouth is ready for round two.
Sometimes, when the bulk of the cake is gone, he will sit and pick up one crumb at a time and keep eating. Sometimes he will get frustrated and wave his hands about on his tray and scatter the crumbs as far as possible. At this point I decided to bend down and pick up some of the strays before they got trodden into the carpet and for my reward he reached out and patted me on the head with a chocolatey hand.
Never mind, I needed to get the Flash wipes out to clean the crusted on mess from his tray, having to wipe sticky marks off my hair clip as well wasn't the end of the world.
When we picked him up for his bath I found that he was sat on a small pile of peas.