Hoo, the boy I am so crazy in love with, is going through a hitting phase. I
remember it well from when his aunts and uncles were little hooligans. Slamming
their heads into my face when I least expected it. It not only brought tears to my
eyes it chipped teeth!
Bites to the shoulder when gently rocking the little darlings to sleep.
Hard (dare I say vicious) bites.
Hoo shows me objects so close they nearly
take an eye out. His toothbrush, a spoon he
is done with, his finger all make great
pokers to check how do grandma’s eyes
Not too good and not for much
longer if you keep poking them!
I don’t want to cramp his natural curiosity of his world but I would like to survive it intact.
He also excels at the toddler back-bend when he doesn’t want to get into his car seat.
It’s like trying to wrestle a giant squirrel.
I have to watch out for swinging arms that wing my glasses out the car door and kicking that would make David Carradine proud.
He is not the grasshopper he is the master. Roundhouse kick to the midsection. Yah!
Right now, right this very instant. He is doing something he knows very well he shouldn’t.
He is playing with the guitar.
I’ll go put him in “Time-Out”,
right after I paper clip my glasses back together.
Or maybe I’ll just call to him from the safety of this tabletop….yeah that’s it.
Hoo waits for dinner
The most often asked kitchen questions:
- Is there anything to eat?
- Whose chinese is this? Can I have it? (Usually said with a mouth full of cold lo mein).
- Why isn’t there ever anything to eat???
Bart eyes Hoo’s dinner of purple grapes, cubed cheese, banana slices and toast points with butter.
“Well, you have dinner I see.” He sneaks a few grapes off the plate.
“Bart, would you like a plate of grapes and cheese? You sound a little jealous.”
“When he eats the food looks so good.”
I open the fridge and take out the rice and meat sauce.
I make a plate for Bart and put it in the microwave.
Now Hoo sees that Bart has something interesting to eat and immediately loses interest in his dinner.
Bart says, “You want to trade buddy.”
He switches his plate with the baby and proceeds to eat Hoo’s dinner while Hoo digs his hands in the rice and sauce.
“You know” I say, “I would have made you your own.”