Beware the Crab

I'm not sure why, but for some reason Olllie Dumpie (aka 'Noah' our second born son...currently 17 months old) has taken to biting and hair pulling as of late. He doesn't dare do it to his beloved Grandpa (rather he snuggles up and cuddles HIM) but Auntie Ba, Eggie and I are all fair game.
Given that Dumps is now sporting almost a full set of teeth (the back ones have come in recently), when he clamps his strong little jaw on your neck or your big toe or your muffin top (yes, humiliation of humiliations is when he sinks those serrated little teeth into excess fat) your first instinct after screaming is to fling the little munchkin across the room.

Of course given that he is a small child and not a rabid dog, this reaction is not to be advised. Given also his increasing weight and solidity, this would be easier said than done anyhow. No, we must grin and bear it and wait on tenterhooks for the next assault to take place. Much like a little crab he looks harmless enough quietly playing at your feet, then next thing you know you'll feel it and yelp as his sweet little face looks up grinning at you.

The hair pulling is really getting tiresome too. Great big handfuls of hair have been sacrificed recently, and given Egg's lustrous silky blond locks, the temptation must simply be too much - for he gets it twice as much as Auntie Ba and I (might be something to do with us being slightly higher and out of reach most of the time).

Anyway, on more than one occasion we have witnessed Egg running out of the room screaming, "Get that Dumps away he is attacking me!" with aforementioned Dumps in hot pursuit (the little bugger sure moves fast on his chubby little feet).

Add to this Dumpie's ongoing attempt to rid the condo of all accoutrements via the 9th floor balcony and it makes for a very (un)restful holiday. Yesterday Dumpie got into Grandpa's indelible marker collection and spent most of the day looking like a rather avant garde piece of graffiti - what with the mostly purple angry-looking scrawls all over his hands and feet.

Today is another scorching day and we're all on our way out now for some lunch at a fish place by the water. Sounds idyllic I know...but the reality is that chips will be thrown, drinks spilled, a temper tantrum or two, Dumpie and Egg will narrowly miss being run over in the parking lot, and perhaps Grandpa's wallet will end up over the railing. Add to that a potential diarhea, a possible car puke-up and even maybe a shoplifting charge by one or both of the boys in whichever store we dare frequent and you'll see that although this day has all the ingredients for success, it more resembles a recipe for disaster.