No, you gotta give me what I ASK for...

Finn and I have been working on "Ta ta!" No, not bewbies, ta ta as in give-me-what-you've-got-before-you-ruin/choke on/lose/hurt yourself with-it. It's going well. Well, it works if you're less than a foot from him, and beam him with the "Mommy Eye". Otherwise, he will give you something, but it won't be what you ask for - it will be whatever he dang well FEELS like giving you! Thus, I have compiled a list of of things I've asked him to give me, compared to what I've actually been given:

Asked for: the bobby pin he was eating. Got: his sister's beanie baby unicorn.
Asked for: the box of q-tips he was spreading all over the living room. Got: a toy car.
Asked for: the loose change he'd dug out of my purse. Got: the hair elastic I didn't even know he had.
Asked for: the dust bunny he dug out from under the couch. Got: his sock.
Asked for: my hairbrush. Got: a flip flop.
Asked for: the cable bill. Got: the cable bill (dang).
Asked for: the empty Pepsi can. Got: a handful of slobber.
Asked for: the diaper he'd pulled out of the diaper bag. Got: another flip flop.
Asked for: my keys. Got: HIS keys.
Asked for: my camera. Got: his hat.
Asked for: his empty bottle. Got: hit with it.
Asked for: my drivers licence. Got: toe fuzz.
Asked for: the soggy cookie he was done with. Got: a petrified piece of corn from somewhere in his highchair.

I wonder if reverse-psycology works on one-year-olds?