So Dumps said his first sentence this morning. Stood at the top of stairs alongside Eggie, he was waving off a lycra-clad 'Dada' in all his biking gear glory. Suddenly, out of nowhere, just as Jay was wheeling his bike out the door, we heard clear as anything, 'Bye Dada!' We couldn't believe it!
Of course he hasn't uttered a tangible word since, content instead to direct orders with gesticulation, grunts and nonsensical vowel pairings as par usual. We completely understand what he is saying, as in a charades-like fashion he impatiently repeats himself until we 'get it'...sometimes making us feel like 'slow' idiots with a lesser I.Q. whom he has to frequently indulge.
This afternoon he decided to partake of burning hot salsa with his tortilla chips, even though he would wince with disgust after every bite. It was as if he had to be included in the ritual of dip, munch, swallow and dip again, in order to enjoy the snack alongside we adults. Finally the inevitable happened, and Dumps puked spectacularly and spontaneously into longsuffering Auntie Ba's cupped hands (who gratefully took 'it' for the team in order to preserve my newly purchased and much-adored black luxury throw. We love you Auntie Ba.)
Eggie attempted to explain a string of naughty behaviours today by blaming it on my consistently doled out 'time-outs' . Apparently the more I discipline him the more he feels himself prone to naughtiness. Wonder if I should let 'Super Nanny' in on this little nugget of wisdom? Saying that, Egg did display a remarkably controlled temper upon finding his beloved stuffed bear Bacon stuffed deliberately in the toilet bowl (newly handwashed this week by 'Dada' after Egg declared him to be too stinky even for his accustomed nose). A guilty Dumps grinned proudly in response to his dirty deed being discovered, not a glimmer of remorse on his cherubic little face. Bacon did not look (or smell) pleased.
On a final note, little Egg has been suffering from nightmares as of late, and has now decided that saying not one goodnight prayer, but rather three "Dear Jesus'" is the key to keeping bad dreams at bay. Bless him.
Thursday, 1 May 2008
Posted by "Moaning Mum" at Thursday, May 01, 2008