My wife has a cork.
Yesterday I asked my daughter, " do you think your mother and I should have another baby?" Obviously the answer to that is "are you mental?" The purpose of the question was to a) see if our daughter had any inclination to have more siblings, and b) to see if she has been infested with that bizarre female trait of wanting babies around in spite of the fact that babies are horrible. As is pregnancy. And labor. And most things about children who are younger than two. Anyhoo - thankfully she laughed the suggestion off. Actually she laughed, said no and then reminded her mother that after she had our son she stopped herself from having more babies. I'm imagining some sort of cork/bung system. Rather that than any Todd Akin style notion that she can know just shut down her body to invasive baby making bacteria. Oddly her mother picked up on the "your mother and I" part and repeated that to me - as if I were subtly raising the idea with our daughter that Daddy made a baby sister somewhere else. So - just to clarify - I asked if I should make a baby with someone else. I was reminded by our daughter that I'm a man and therefore can't have babies. Then her mother made the statement that actually we're married therefore Daddy can't have babies with anyone else. Ever. Thank goodness that's a concrete rule that no-one has ever broken otherwise there would be utter mayhem.
Also yesterday I caught my son doing this.
As you can see I didn't quite get the right moment. But yes - he was sucking his thumb. And you can also tell my son wasn't best pleased to be having his photo taken. I have never once seen my son put his thumb in his mouth without it being covered in something sticky. Which wasn't happening here (I hope). He's never had a dummy/pacifier near his gob either. I personally have no idea at all why anyone would stick one of those in a kid's gob but that's neither here not there (it's certainly not here). I understand the logic of it to some degree. But in my mind that's a bit like choosing to stick it in another hole you don't want things coming out of. Weirder is that the reason for having the thing changes from using it to stop a child making noises you don't like to it being the reason given for why the child is making noise in the first place. And it's not very far removed from giving a baby toffee so that it can't make noises anymore. "Oh he's upset because he's just upset because he's dropped his toffee. Oh there it is! The dog's got it! I'll just wipe it off on the curtain and yay!!!! Silence!!!" I've been told I've got this wrong and that actually it's about a child's comfort. They like it. My kids cry less when I give them lots of stuff they don't need as well. So I do get that part of it. But again - if they don't keep getting it that becomes the reason they are crying as well.
Still - my assumption was that a thumb-sucker came from a dummy-sucker. And I'm not saying this is what was happening. Once does not a pattern make. But he did look like he was doing that. He is horrifyingly obsessed with nipples though, so I should have foreseen some sort of aftershocks since he's been weaned. But he's been off the sauce for a looooong time. I promise you that if you enter my home my son will touch your nipples. We should just get that out of the way at this stage. Anyhoo - I noticed it and thought I should let the wife know we should be vigilant and stop it if it happens again. The wife then very quickly suggested squirt bottles. "They work on cats when they scratch furniture.." she said with a demonic glint in her eye. I don't think it's a stretch too far to suggest that she may already have filled and labeled bottles stored somewhere ready for the right occasion. Which seems to mean any occasion, judging by her gleeful willingness to squirt her own child.
Moving on - I really dislike exceptionalism. By this I mean the attitude that is expressed in two main ways. The first is the Rules Don't Apply To Me expression. So people who wait outside schools/grocery stores in their car right by the door in spite of the signs, or jump queues or smoke where you just aren't supposed to. And then if anyone points this out they behave as if they are being persecuted and the pointer-outer is a Nazi. Makes me seethe. I'm sad to say that I can see this Special Little Princess attitude being fostered in a few children I know. Deeply unpleasant.
But the other angle of that is the kind of person who wont stop bloody moaning about how hard their life is. The important ingredient also being that their life isn't hard - it's ordinary and normal. But they'll whine loudly because they know they are special and have been hand-picked by God to see how much endurance one human being can take before suicide is the only remaining option. I've literally seen someone whine in a three year old high-pitched whinny to another person who's child had leukemia about how they just can't take having another cold. These are the kind of people that as soon as they show up at work they let everyone know that - once again - their morning has been filled with such unbearable trials that not only should they be given at least an hour to do bugger all and recover, but that any genuine issues you had this weekend can just be packed away and stored because they are pathetic in comparison. Of course I don't go to work now so I just see that online instead.
But this morning my daughter appeared to toy with the idea of having a go at this. She felt that her life was so unbearably hard that she had to remonstrate that we never give her what she wants. Basically she got up at 5.20. I'm not sure why other than the fact that everyone else was already up. The wife had come downstairs at 4.45am to check her work emails and I was obviously already awake laughing at Jamie Carragher's suggestion that Liverpool could finish in the top 4 of the Premier League this year. When the wife went back up to quickly get dressed and leave she was lovingly slowed down first by our waking son, and then by our daughter. She changed her plans and decided to slowly wake up with them because you know - kids awake to 5am is absurd. I should have suspected some sort of dark force at work today. Mostly because we decided to go to Walmart on a Saturday afternoon this weekend. During which time I swear blindly that I saw a sales sign that said "Walmart Love Eggs" but - in spite of some furious Googling - have been unable to prove it. Which might mean that my eyes are evil and made that up. But considering that I definitely did see a product being sold called Nog I'm inclined to go with the first idea. And no I don't mean Egg Nog - because this had no eggs in it. It was just called Nog. And no way in a million years would you convince me to willingly take a mouthful of your Nog no matter how much you assured me it would be nice.
Anyhoo - the very fact that I'd been to Walmart and possibly imagined something as a foul as their Love Eggs meant that my whole family must be punished somehow. Which - as it turned out - was everyone being awake at 5am. When I was called to have a quick family cuddle on the bed before my wife zoomed off both kids yawned in that way that proved that there was no reason at all for them to be battling tiredness to be awake at this time of day. After a decent laze everyone was up, most of us dressed, eating breakfast and the wife was out the door. Only to return relatively quickly with her car making very strange clanking noises. I'm sure some of you would have hoped we'd have a look underneath to see what could making all that racket. No - not in the dark when it's 19 degrees Fahrenheit I wont. So we got my son dressed, everyone loaded into my car and dropped the wife's car at the mechanics. Then we drove my wife to work and made it home just after 7. On the way home my daughter moaned that she would miss her favorite television show, moaned that she shouldn't have to speak louder for other people to hear her and moaned that we needed to stop for gas.
When we got home she demanded "Breakfast Two". Which was a clementine. Then she asked for some toast. Which she got as well. She then began reminding me of all the injustices of the morning - and added that she had not wanted to drive her mother to work on a school day because it meant we had gotten her out of bed early. Because we're bastards. I then reminded her that she got up very much against my wishes at 5.20am. She rebutted by looking at me with an expression that still said that I was still a complete bastard. Then - randomly - at 7.30 she whimpered quietly that I had forgotten something. I tried to get her to tell me what it was but she was still refusing to speak louder. Then she erupted. She began crying hysterically. I managed to get her to reveal that, "it's chip time" and I won't let her have any. Yes - potato chips. At 7.30 in the morning. I can assure you that she's never had so much as a sniff of chips anywhere near this time of day. And yet here she was genuinely wailing about the injustice of me denying her chip privileges. So I calmly told her that she'd had oatmeal, a clementine and some toast for breakfast - and that she was going to be getting on the bus for school shortly. But if she can name me one time ever that she's had chips for breakfast or before school I'd love to hear it. Then she snapped out of it and was nice enough. It's a bloody good job she has a half day today. Actually she gets out at 11 which isn't even a half day. I'd much prefer she be grouchy and an arse at home than at school and besmirch her fine reputation.
Luckily though my son is a great mood.