Emma would be ecstatic if she could just sit at the table and eat condiments. This morning, I set a jar of elderberry jam in front of her and went back to the kitchen for a knife. I came back and her face and fingers were buried in the jar, lips smeared with elderberries, and the “I’ve just gone to heaven” look dancing in her eyes.

But it’s not just jams and jellies. The little freak will eat mustard. Straight. No chaser.

L.A. Daddy lets her slurp up A-1 steak sauce with her straw. “That spicy, mommy!” Chuckle, chuckle, grin.

She’ll lick the ketchup off the French fry, the nacho cheese off a chip, and gulps sour cream up with a spoon. All this from the girl who, through the first two years of her life, didn’t like chocolate (God help us!)

Now, if we can just get her off the margaritas…