Last night it was deemed to be Let’s Let Ben Make A Scummy Ring Around The Tub Night, and so The Daver threw the Big One into the bathtub (the Little One had just been bathed, Bon Jovi mullet and all). I sat downstairs on my (shrinking!) ass playing Free Cell obsessively while Alex thought of new and ingenious ways to make my life difficult. Well, that, or just obsessively go from room to room pointing out Balls! and Wind Chimes! and Kitty-Cats!
Eventually Alex made his way to the bottom of the stairs where he could see his father and brother shamelessly hanging out WITHOUT HIM, and his patented Rage ™ began. HE wanted to be with THEM upstairs! HOW DARE THEY HANG OUT WITHOUT HIM?
Sensing his mewling plight, I plucked him up from the bottom of the stairs and carried him up to see what was going on with the Elder Sausages.
I plopped him onto the 70’s tile floor and he looked as happy as a pig in shit. Ben was close, Dad was close and Mom was RIGHTTHERE next to him. Life was good.
Ben suggested that I give Alex some of his old bath toys to play with (although Ben is NOT too cool to play with Alex’s new walker-thingy he IS too cool for bath toys. Whatever.), so I craned my body over (our upstairs bathroom is not quite a model of elegance or size) to select one that was not too dingy looking for Alex to bang incessantly on the ground.
In this process, I edged myself over to the door, where Alex noticed his new favorite toy, a DOOR! and promptly began to shut it on me.
At 11 months old, Alex has now
begun requesting politely insisting upon Dude Time. No Vagina’s Allowed.
Shit, I need a daughter.