In an effort to get Imogen to eat some lasagne tonight (not a favourite for her, because it involves a lot of foods mixed up and touching each other,) I was being extra silly in my requests. Humor sometimes works.
Me: Imogen, you can choose to have three bites of your yummy chicken lasagne or you can have seven HUNDRED bites! Which do you want?
Imogen: Three. You are not funny, Mummy, and I will not eat seven hundred bites.
Me: Grandad would eat seven hundred bites, wouldn't you Grandad?
Grandad: Oh yes.
Me: That's because Grandad is almost SEVEN HUNDRED years old!!!
Imogen: Mummy, you are ridiculous. If Grandad was seven hundred years old, his head would have growed out of the roof.