Rosalie stands far below the corner cupboard, lifts her arms up pleadingly and begs, "Ginkyu! Ginkyu!"
"Rosalie," I say, "they're not called 'Thank you.' They're called 'candy corn.'"
"Ginkyu! GINKYUUU!" she repeats, near desperation.
"Oh, okay. You can have three."
I hand them over.
She is SO grateful.
With a break in her voice that sounds like a chuckle she says again, and means it, "Ginkyu-u."
And walks off with her candy filled hands tucked under her chin and a smile of pure satisfaction on her face.
I'll never get her trained.
(She's had ME trained for too long now.)