As I'm approaching the big two-point-five years of life, I thought it might be time for a little progress report. I overhear you talking about all of my accomplishments (of which, of course, there are MANY), and airing your frustrations (are you INSANE?)... so I think it's only fair that I, your benevolent Little Dictator, chime in at least once.
Here are some things I want you to take note of:
1. When I say "down", but am pointing 'up', don't be an ass. You know what I want, so why correct me? You're just embarrassing me in front of Bobo the monkey and the rest of my toys. Not cool.
2. Why must you call me out when I am pooping? I picked that corner of the room for a reason; it allows me the best view of the television while just hiding me from your sight so that I might do my thing. If I really wanted to learn how to use a potty, I'd ask you. Have you heard me asking you? No? Then back off and let a boy soil his shorts in peace. (P.S. - That potty, you know, the one with the duck face on it? IT CREEPS ME OUT. Not gonna use it.)
3. Mama, I know something is changing. Your belly is fat, it kicks at me when I'm sitting on your (increasingly smaller) lap, and you're eating more ice cream than ever. But whatever is going on, I don't believe you for one second when you point to your belly and say "There's a baby brother in there for you, Bubba...!" Oh, there's something in there, sure, but it sure as hell ain't for me. If I don't like it, I'm sending it back.
4. So what if I like crackers and chips? So what if that's all I want to eat? Maybe I'm proteinphobic... ever thought of that? You keep telling me that eating chicken and fish and that loafed meat stuff will make me grow big and strong like Dada... but have you ever stopped and LOOKED at Dada? The man's a hairy beast! Sure, I want to look like Dada one day, but I also want to enjoy my few years of hair-free bliss, thanks... and for all I know, he's hairy because he eats his protein.
5. Dada, tickle me more. I love it.
6. Dada, if you don't laugh when I punch you in the nuts, I'll stop doing it.
7. Dada, I think I love you the most... don't tell Mama.
8. Why am I allowed to color on my desk, table, and body, but not on the refrigerator, the floor, the couches or the cats? Is my skin less important to you than the food-cooler??
9. It's cute how you think you'll get me to sleep in my own bed when the "baby" comes. You're stuck with me, guys.
10. Have you noticed that I no longer scream bloody murder when you attempt to trim my nails, dislodge a booger, or change my poopy diaper? A little praise would go a LONG way.
11. Mama, I know I'm really independent right now... but I still love it when you squat down, throw open your arms, smile and say "MY BABY!" so that I can run to you. I think I love you the most... don't tell Dada.
12. I know that Granny is "Granny" or "Granmama", not "This"... but she's so fun to tease. I think I love her the most... don't tell Graddy.
13. You know why I'm not hungry for dinner? Graddy sneaks me cookies when you're not looking. I think I love him the most... don't tell Granny/Granmama/This.
14. I'd never tell you this to your face, but I kind of like signing things while I talk. Can we do more of that, please?
I love you both, even though I can't always show it. Then again, if you allow me to have a popsicle for dinner every night, I could be convinced to show it a liiiiittle more...
Mwah,
The Squish/Bubba/Dookiedoo/SquishFaceButtNugget
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| Your Loving Little Dictator... |
