Amanda Lamb: If I had a million dollars

"I'm so hungry, I'm going to die. I need a cereal bar," my youngest tells me putting the back of her hand to her head in a mock fainting spell gesture. "Daddy won't let me have one."

"Well, if Daddy said no, what makes you think I will say yes," I responded trying to figure out just how to handle her dramatic plea for food.

"Well, if I can't have that I want something else," she daid defiantly balling her little hands into fists.

"What do you want?"

"A million dollars," she said without hesitation. "If I can't have a cereal bar then I want a million dollars."

I had to hold myself back from dissolving into a gutteral bout of laughter. I couldn't imagine where she heard the term "a million dollars" before. It amazed me also that she was taking me on in a terrorist-like negotiation over a cereal bar.

"Wow, what would you do with it if you had it?"

"Lots of stuff," she said still with an edge to her voice.

I could tell she was trying hard to think of something. Not being a very materialistic child, I knew it would be hard for her to spend a million dollars. Polly Pockets, Pet Shops, and stuffed animals aside, she didn't want for much.

"Like?"

"Like...like I'd buy all the cereal bars I ever wanted," she said, hand on her hips with a wry grin.

"Would you settle for one?"