December 20, 2007

So tonight as we were sitting at the supper table, enjoying, ya know, supper, our 17-month-old made me cry. And sorta even scream. And double over and hit my belly on the edge of the table. Because I was laughing so hard.

He was in a mood. You know, the kind that a child of this age gets into when he feels that enough attention is not being paid him even though he has 7 older siblings who dote on him all day long and play with him until he’s irritated by their efforts to teach him how to walk and other apparently useless and annoying, loving things like that.

So he decides that he doesn’t like any of the food I have made, including the fresh, hot, homemade bread that he normally would sleep with in bed if I let him, awaking hourly to lick and sniff it. Basically, everything that I set before him caused him to arch his back, throw himself backwards over the side of his high chair, scrunch up his face, and emit noises that elephants make when they’re giving birth. Except the elephant noises sound nicer. So I stopped trying to get him to eat for a few bites while I ate MY supper WITHOUT elephant noises because I try to set a good example like that. After a few minutes of watching me eat, he decided he would, indeed, care for some of the delicious food that looks so nutritious, and thank you, Mommy, for taking the effort to feed us all so well, and DON’T GIVE ME THAT BECAUSE NOW I’M MAD AGAIN AND FIND IT COMPLETELY NECESSARY TO ARCH MYSELF BACKWARDS AND MAKE ELEPHANT-IN-TRANSITION NOISES AGAIN, AND, IS EVERYONE WATCHING ME AND DESIRING TO FULFILL MY EVERY NEED BECAUSE I SO NEED THAT RIGHT NOW!

And then, just to show me how mad and tough he was, he lifted his leg, and tried to kick the bite of food off the side of his high-chair. Except that his leg wouldn’t bend that way, so he grasped his skinny little ankle, and hoisted it up and over, and swung it back and forth, over and over again while making elephant noises and scrunching up his face, until some portion of his foot connected with the food-bit, and successfully flung it to the floor. And then he looked at me sitting there doubled over with laughter and figured out that his little tough-baby experiment hadn’t worked, and got a sheepish/dorky look on his face, and if he had been a dog, he would’ve slunk off, embarrassed, with his tail between his legs.


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