I may have mentioned that Thing 2 adores a good iPad bearing a Baby Einstein flick. It causes him to go all quiet for a space of time that pushes thirty minutes, and THAT, my friends, is a genuine GLORY, GLORY, HALLELUJAH!
In comparison, when we play that catchy little piece of nonsense called What Does the Fox Say?, Thing 2 MUST break out in a full-body dance that involves arm swinging, feet kicking and hips being dislocated. There is no I’LL JUST SIT HERE QUIETLY while the fox song is happening. That’s when Mama needs to CLEAR THE FURNITURE, MARTHA, because Thing 2’s gotta dance, and that sofa is plum in the way.
But then today, we struck pay dirt by finding a little collection of animated nursery rhymes on the You Tube, and Thing 2’s attention was THOROUGHLY snagged. Which is very good, you know, because before he just sat himself in front of the video machine, Thing 2 was overwhelmed with an enormous urge to pick up the very-much FULL bowl of cat food and… you know… give it a fling across the kitchen. The fling was reminiscent of John Elway chucking a football on a Hail Mary pass. I think it goes without saying that we had cat food everywhere. Mama may even have flashed her glowing red, Dark Side of The Jedi Club eyeballs in response to this, as she stood with the bullwhip and told Thing 2, “Pick it up!”
And Thing 2? Well, he thought I said, “Put small pieces of cat food in your ear.” Because, sweet mercy, y’all, that is exactly what he did. Only I was right there after the initial bowl-fling, so I immediately became the on-duty parole officer who was busy overseeing the community service. When I saw that Thing 2 was opting to stuff chunks of cat food into his ear instead of returning them to the empty bowl, I intervened and said, “What? Do you WANT to be in the ER today, getting your ears drilled out?”
No, he did not.
He changed his course of action and refilled the bowl, at the speed of DEAD SNAIL.
But then we found the animated nursery rhymes, and listen: IT’S SEVENTEEN ENTIRE MINUTES LONG, and Thing 2 was mesmerized enough to just glue himself into one spot and CEASE with all the noise making.
Of course one of the nursery rhymes was “Baa Baa, Black Sheep,” because any collection of rhymes worth its salt will have the classics in it. The little sheep go through a giant machine that shaves them clean, and they emerge… well... rather bare.
And THIS caused Thing 2 to howl with laughter. That baby of ours threw his head back and laughed so hard, I’m sure he wet his Pampers.
So we played it again. And again. And pretty soon seventeen entire minutes became forty-five minutes, and Mama didn’t get a lick of anything done. It’s difficult to leave the room and focus your attention on folding socks fresh from the dryer when your one-and-a-half-year-old is rolling on the floor like a hyena under the influence of laughing gas over naked sheep.
And then “Little Bo Peep” happened along in the lineup, and for some reason… Thing 2… howled with laughter when Bo was sitting on a hill, sobbing over her missing sheep.
Now, a naked sheep? Well, that’s just dadgum funny. I’m pretty sure there isn’t a boy on this planet who wouldn’t giggle over the sight of a pink-skinned sheep. But the laughing over a little girl who’s missing her sheep and is crying with grief?
Thing 2 may need some help getting in touch with his sensitive side. Because right now he’s all, “What? You lost your sheep, and you’re sitting on this hill crying over it? Excuse me while I THROW MY HEAD BACK AND BARK WITH HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER!!”
Mama told him that when a girl loses her sheep, he should sit beside her. And hold her hand. And pat her shoulder and say comforting words like, “There, there, there. I’m here. Let’s put some LOST SHEEP posters on light posts downtown.”
We’re working on it, people. So you mothers of little tiny girls, go ahead and gather your sheep and your donkeys and your oxen. Get your dowries together, and Hubs and I will consider what you have to offer in exchange for an arranged marriage between your daughter and Thing 2.
Because what girl wouldn’t want a husband who can throw a bowl of cat food further than an NFL kicker can punt a football? Plus, he’ll wow the crowd at the wedding reception, when he takes the dance floor on What Does the Fox Say?.
I think those things spell out GOOD CATCH.
Even if he does spill his snack of fruity cereal all over the floor.
Y’all go on now. Go hug a veteran, and let him or her know how much you appreciate all that they’ve done for our country. Because freedom ain’t free, people. And then y’all can just crawl into bed and call it a night, because MY WORD AT THIS TIME CHANGE! Every night around 6:30, I think to myself, “It HAS GOT to be nearing midnight now.”
In the words of Hubs… “I remember a time when you were much wilder and would stay up until 9 PM.”
Did I have a toddler than who threw bowls of cat food and climbed walls? I can’t remember.