don't pull the wool

I admit it: I mess with my kid just a little bit. I can't help it. He's fascinating. Sometimes it's hard to think of him as an actual human being, but every day he proves that he is.

He still sleeps with his Booba. And if you'll recall, there are 3 of them. They rotate around the house, sharing the job of being Andy's companion. Now he doesn't take Booba with him everywhere any longer. Booba has become strictly a bed bunny. He'll bring Booba downstairs with him in the morning or after a nap but then poor Booba is always discarded on the floor. I feel bad for that wabbit.

Anyway, at nap time today I put Andy in his bed. Booba #1 was down in the basement on the floor so I went to the closet and pulled out Booba #2 and handed it to Andy. He looped his finger through the tag on Booba's posterior, inspected it quickly and handed it right back to me.

"I want the better Booba."

I still can't really figure out how he knows which Booba is which, but again I'm sure I'm not giving him enough credit. But just for curiosity's sake, I went to the closet, pretended to switch Boobas, and then handed him the same Booba he'd just rejected. I was sure he'd smile and be happy with it.

He did smile. He took it from me. He looped his finger through Booba's tag. Then his face immediately clouded.

"This isn't the better Booba."

I stifled a laugh and said, "Yes it is honey." (I know. It was just wrong of me.)

He handed it to me and said dully, "Nooooooooooooo it isn't."

So I went and got Booba #3, the better Booba and gave it to him. He immediately lay down and asked for his blankies.

How did he know? I can't even tell the difference between those damn things.