Jackson has discovered a whole new way to receive permission for just about anything. I call it his "permission phone." Sadly, my cell phone plan does not come with such upgrades. But Jackson's phone can work miracles. For examples, earlier in the week I was making supper and I spied Jackson touching Eric's steak before I had set the plates on the table. "Don't touch someone's food, Jack." "It's ok, mama. It's ok. People like that." "No, actually they don't. People don't like it when you touch their food with your hands." At this point in the conversation, Jackson whipped out an imaginary phone and put it to his ear. Apparently, he had dialed Eric, who was on his way home from work at the time, and proceeded to ask imaginary-phone-Eric if it is indeed ok for Jackson to touch his food. After a brief pretend-yet-private-conversation, Jackson hung up his phone (back in his pocket) and assured me all is well. "Yes...