These things don't talk you know

I generally try to teach Connor things during the day, things like how to put shoes on my feet, how to balance a frisbee on his head, you know, important life stuffs. But I think the thing that he learns the most is what he learns just by watching us. I once spent an entire hour trying to teach him to clap, but it took him all of about 3 seconds to learn that if I'm in the kitchen with the pantry door open, (which he can see from the doorway), if he simultaneously moans, crys and says the word cheese, I'll give him a cookie. How can you say no to THAT?! It's the cutest, most pitiful, most annoying sound all rolled up into one baleful cry, it's coming from your child and you just want it to stop. And well. A cookie works pretty well.
Although it just occurred to me tonight when Jorma walked over to the pantry and opened it and Connor started cranking up the fussy butt machine, (That's going to be his bands name one day), that I had created a monster. But how do you ignore them when they say they are hungry and they really aren't? How do you know they really aren't, when it's been an hour and a half since breakfast and they've been running around at full speed all morning. These things don't talk you know... Although, I'm pretty sure when they do... they are still always running up to you asking for cookies.