a kinder, gentler bumper sticker

On my birthday Andy came into the dining room and announced to the family, "Happened!" (This is code for "Something happened.")

We all said, "What happened Andy?"

"Cake."

Cake happens, I guess.

bawling

I asked him why he was bawling.

He said, "Spider."

I asked, "Where was the spider?"

He said, "On the muffin."

after a romp in the dewey grass...

...his feet were covered in clippings and dirt.

David said, "Andy, what's on your feet?"

Andy looked down and then up at his uncle. "Toes."

chocolate milk

Andy's become obsessed with chocolate milk. I wish I'd never given it to him because now he asks for it constantly. I try very hard to make him drink a cup of white milk first, and with meals, but I'm not always 100% successful. After all, I'd rather he get the calcium plus a little chocolate than no calcium at all.

The little stinker's smart about it too. His sippy cups are opaque, but they're transparent on the bottom. So one day when Shawn tried to trick him and poured white milk into the cup instead of chocolate, Andy grabbed it, flipped it upside down, inspected the bottom of the cup, and handed it back to his father, saying, "Chocolate milk!" Now, when we give him a drink, he always checks the bottom of the cup to be sure he's getting what he asked for.

This morning, I gave him his white milk with his pancakes. After a few sips, he said, "Chocolate milk!" and handed me the cup. For a few minutes I stuck to my guns and said, "Andy you have to finish your white milk first." He countered with, "No white milk! No white milk!"

Well, we must have had this argument before, because when I gave up and took the milk to the kitchen to add the chocolate, I heard him say, "Chocolate milk! Chocolate milk! Alright alright ALRIGHT! Alright baby! Hang on!"

Little twerp. Sounded just like me, too.

uffins

Andy loves muffins.

And, Andy loves puffins.

Problem is, he seems to get them confused. When we read his animal book, he points to the Artic birds and says, "Muffins!" When we make blueberry muffins for dinner, he says, "Puffins!"

While in Florida, he frequently asked for puffins. So Shawn would wander down to the 7-Eleven on the corner and buy him a blueberry muffin. He obviously remembers this, because just now we were reading his animal book and came to the page with the puffin.

He pointed to the picture, and said, "Daddy buy puffin! Very yummy!"

muskovy

At Naples Zoo last Thursday (formerly Jungle Larry's, site of many a great childhood memory for me), we took the lad around to see the sights. There were roos, tigers, panthers, monkeys, parrots....the general zoo thing.

Halfway through our tour we stopped to feed some ducks. They were muskovy ducks, the ugly turkey-duck things you always see in Florida. Shawn got a handful of food and started to feed them. They were quite brazen, obviously used to being hand-fed.

Then we gave Andy a few pieces of food. He held his little hand out to the duck.

And of course the duck bit his finger.

Not hard, really. Just a snappy duck bite. I don't think ducks even have teeth.

He started to cry and said, tearfully, "Finger! Duck bit! Duck bit finger!"

In a flash I remembered my mom's story from my own childhood, of a similar incident, and said to my son exactly what she said to me almost 30 years ago.

"Andy! The ducky kissed you! He kissed your finger! What a nice ducky!"

And I'll be damned, it worked.

He stopped crying, smiled, and said, "Ducky kiss! Nice duck!"

And then it was over.

mutterances

We were sitting on the porch of the condo on Ft. Myers Beach the other morning.

Andy was sitting in a chair, ink pen in hand, drawing on the glass-top table, muttering to himself, "No don't do that no don't do that no don't do that."

30,000 feet

Last week, we flew to Fort Myers Beach for a little family vacation. No grandparents, no visitors, just us. We needed it.

Luckily on the flight down, the plane was only half full and Andy was able to have his own seat. It was incredibly helpful as he is no longer really able to hold still on our laps. He behaved very well, as well as any almost-two-year-old can be expected to.

Towards the end of the flight he insisted upon getting out of his seat. I told Shawn to let him run up and down the aisle at the rear of the plane for a few minutes since we were the only people back there. When his feet touched the floor he immediately headed for the food service area at the far rear, where the flight attendants do their thing. The flight attendant barked at him and Shawn and sent them away. Shawn said, "Sorry buddy, but it's against the law for you to be back there." And he put Andy back in his seat.

Andy's face clouded instantly. He started to cry and reached for me. I asked, "What's wrong honey?"

He pointed to his father and said, "Mad! Kill Daddy!"

Wow.

I have no idea where he got the phrase "Kill Daddy". Well, almost no idea anyway....