Tubthumping
July 21, 2006
Lately, Troll Baby is terrifed of the tub. I don’t know what brought on this sudden fear of the bath, but whenever we put him in it, he soaks Daren or I as he grasps at our shoulders, thrashing about, hollering to get out. The poor little man screams that the tub is hungry, and I’m afraid when one of us said that to him as the water noisely drained one evening, that he thought the tub was going to swallow him whole.
His facination with the movie Finding Nemo is waning, because now he will scream “Tunnus scarwed of da dolphin,” when the scene with the sharks comes on. I’m debating on the planned trip to Marineland at the end of the summer now, because walking around that place with a sweaty toddler stole wrapped around my neck does not seem the least bit appealing.
With BlogHer and Dylan’s and my Calgary trip fast approaching, I’m concerned the little guy will either a) forget who I am; or b) instill the fear of babysitting into each of the 3 caregivers I have scheduled for him, one of which is my mother-in-law.
During our recent trip to the family farm (pictures here!), Thomas figured out how to get out of the travel crib. He stood beside the bed one morning as I slowly opened my eyes to see his little face exclaim, “Good morning Mommy! Time ah wakeup! Tunnus is wake up, now Mommy do it! Where’s Dinnon? Dinnon ah goah upstaiwrs. Tunnus goah upstaiwrs too. Tunnus want cereal and toast wif peanut butter and jawwy.” I was still wondering what my name was, what time it was and how the hell this kid went AWOL.
When I tucked him in that same night, I said the usual, “Drink your water, have a good sleep, I love you,” shpiel, then added, “You won’t get out of your crib, will you?” It was more of a threatening/begging demand sort of thing and he replied with a michievous grin, “Prowwy not.”
“Prowwy not” are the words of the week. “Are you hot?” “Prowwy not.” “Are you hungry?” “Prowwy not.” “Do you want a new car?” “Prowwy not.” Whew. Got outta that one. Score one for Mommy.
So after lunch today, as Thomas was covered in blueberries, peanut butter, and bologna (yuck), I asked him, “Do you want a bath?”
“Prowwy not.”
Knowing I had laundry to tackle, I condered throwing it in the tub with him for agitation action. I tried to trick him with, “Are you sure?”
“No sanks,” he said, matter of factly.
Let’s just admit it. This kid is smarter than the average washing machine.
July 21st, 2006 at 4:16 pm
FIRST!
July 21st, 2006 at 4:19 pm
Hahahaha I always make fun of those lame-o’s at the Superficial for posting FIRST because they’re first. Like who cares? Anyhoooo I digress, damn straight that kid is smarter than your average washing machine! Look who his mom’s best friend is. I’m partly responsible for his smarts. Ya. And he’s so dang cute. I’m partly responsible for that too. ‘Cause it’s all about me. As usual. Anyway, I love the farm pictures, the kids look like they had a blast. I continue to love your new hair. Well it’s not new hair but the sleek new look of it. You know what I mean. Thank Christ, because half the time I don’t know what I mean. Don’t you love it when I ramble on and on and on? You love it and you know it. And you love me. Again, it’s all about me.
July 21st, 2006 at 5:27 pm
You know, if hes scared of being sucked down the drain, demonstrate for him with toys that even they are too big to be sucked into the drain, and since hes soooooo much bigger, how can he get sucked in? Just like that, he will get it..hopefully. Or demonstrate with yourself and some toys or something. Maybe make it a game, whats too big to put in there kinda thing.
July 21st, 2006 at 10:33 pm
July 22nd, 2006 at 11:40 am
I just love the transcripts of your conversations, complete with mispronunciations.
July 23rd, 2006 at 1:05 am
Yes he is!
Too cute…
Daughter once confessed her fear of being sucked down the drain. She honestly thought she would be.
July 24th, 2006 at 9:31 am
I love this kid! He is so righteous! (Sorry, I did grow up in the sixies!)
Wish you lived closer to the aquarium around here, Newport. He could pet the sharks! No kiddin’, they have a place to pet them without worry of getting your hand chewed off. I think they’re little and don’t bite, anyway. We’re headed there Sunday.