Diary of a toddler boy

Almost every day, usually at breakfast but sometimes during other meals, and always with dessert, mom and dad try to get me to share with them. I don't get it. They give me a bowl of berries or pieces of chocolate or a handful of cinnamon toast crunch cereal, and then ask me to give it back. I know how to share. I just don't want to share so I almost never do so. I will occasionally acquiesce just to humor them. I've found that I can tease them by acting like I'm handing them a piece of my treat and then withdrawing it and eating it myself. It frustrates them, but oddly enough, they can't help but laugh. I must admit I can't resist when they open their mouth and look at me like a hurt puppy. Those are the times when I share with them, but even that generosity has its limits. A sure fire cure for their antics is to put the food in my mouth first and then offer it to them. That works nearly every time. Before I came home, I was the smallest guy in the group. No on...

They think I don't know, but I know.  Sometimes I hear them laughing, oftentimes I can hear the TV turned up just a little too loud, probably to cover the noise of their indiscretions. They are sluggards and would sleep all day if I didn't wake them at 8 every morning.  It's not unusual for me to walk around the apartment and do a little inspection before they've even had their shower or their first cup of coffee. What usually happens is I stumble upon the leftovers of their little trysts. I've found ice cream wrappers, cheese and cracker crumbs, opened bars of chocolate, soiled napkins, and wine bottles.  Always the wine bottles.  I don't see how they can keep a straight face in light of my accusations, I mean, it's an empty wine bottle that wasn't there before I went to bed. Nevertheless, I'm a good son. I will continue to dutifully deliver the trash to them each morning one piece at a time.

They get frustrated when I don't perform, the parents that is. Performance maybe isn't the best word. They're good folks, they're not making me roll over or play dead or beg for food like I'm a puppy or something. I just mean, sometimes they expect me to act my age. They want me to share with others, say thank you and please, and, they get really frustrated when I can't or don't want to WAIT for things. Ok, I admit it, I'm demanding. When we wake up in the morning I'm willing to humor them for a few minutes (seconds) with giggles and snuggles, but there are limits. It's after 8 am, it's time to get the day started and to me that means "la la" (cartoons with music on tv), my sippy cup of hot tea, followed quickly by breakfast. Invariably, they respond with "wait", "wait a minute", "wait a second". I've overheard them talking about not wanting to give me everything I want when I want it because they d...

This blog is so I can look back someday and remember things I liked and didn't like growing up. Um, I like musical children's shows and cartoons. My favorite right after I got home was The Mother Goose Club. Momma figures I liked it because it had real actors and actresses (kids and teens) singing the songs. I especially liked the Mary Quite Contrary character. She was CUTE and I was smitten. I especially like her rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star". As that summer progressed I moved on to some of the cartoons like Dave and Ava, and the Cocomelon cartoons. I like Christian Children's music videos from LifeTree Kids and Hillsong. I don't care much for regular television or movies, however, Daddy insists that Saturday mornings are for movies and we've watched Old Yeller several times. I like animals, especially elephants and sheep. I like dogs from a distance but not up close so much. I don't like commercials, but I like saying, "Reclama...

Eating out is overrated. There are too many distractions. Mom and Dad expected me to sit in a tall chair and what, "occupy myself" for 20 minutes while we were waiting on something to eat. That's insane. At home, when it's time to get in my chair the food is delivered one course after another in quick succession. Not only that, but after each course, my tray is cleared (I insist upon this). At the restaurant though, I sat in the chair and every few minutes this guy would come from the kitchen carrying food. Big tease! He kept taking it to other people and I had to sit and watch them eat while I waited.  Since Mom and Dad didn't bring any games or books for me, they tried to keep me busy playing with napkins and toothpicks. Like, how lame is it to count three toothpicks over and over or blow a piece of napkin across the table? Daddy even folded a napkin and pretended to be kicking footballs. I'm not stupid, you know! It wasn't a real football. Finally, the ...