I've been hoarding holiday gifts for Max for a while now. They have a theme: stuff imprinted with the words "Los Angeles," the city where he'd love to live. Last evening, the first night of Chanukah, I couldn't wait to break out his first present, a water bottle.
Perhaps I was too cocky—"Max! I know you're going to like this!"—because when I pulled the bottle out of the bag for him, he gave it A Look.
"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the writing.
"It says Los Angeles," I explained.
"No it doesn't," he noted.
"Yes, it does, that's script writing," I explained.
"I don't like script!" Max said.
"But Max, it says Los Angeles," I insisted.
"No thank you!" he told me.
At this point, my choices were: Wonder where I'd gone wrong with Max that he could be so ungrateful (although at least he was polite about it!) or accept that Max sometimes has a fixed mindset about how things should and shouldn't be and let it go. It tends to take him a while to come around to new ideas and concepts, and script evidently wasn't something he'd considered before.