Where did my baby go?

“I’ll ask Mommy,” I hear from the other room as I try and soak in the bathtub.

“Mommy, may I have a donut?” Jory asks through the bathroom door.

“No,” I answer, he doesn’t really need sugar now does he?

“Can I have two donuts or three?” he inquires.

What? How do we go from none to two or three? “One.”

“I can have one now, then one later,” the six-year-old continues.

What?! Am I being conned? Whatever. “You can have two.”

“Thank you, Mommy.” He scampers away.

Where did my baby go? Who was that negotiator at the bathroom door?