Update Curious minds have wanted to know...did Owen eventually poo? (See post from a few days back for all the putrid details...) Yes, yes he did. In his pull-up. Then slept in it. Most unpleasant.Owen Getting Dressed, Part I
Owen gets a great deal of mileage out of getting dressed (or, more accurately, avoiding getting dressed). Today, during a typical stall, he said, "Daddy's not dressed!"
I said, "He's not?"
Owen replies "No, he's at work---Naked!"
So that's what government workers do all day...
Doggone Baby Weight
The other day, when on a walk, I struck up conversation with a guy walking his Rottweiler. He volunteered that the dog weighed 141 pounds. I said, "That dog weighs more than me!" I weighed myself this morning. I could so take that dog on. I've got at least three pounds on him.
Owen Getting Dressed, Part II
You're supposed to provide choices for toddlers, at least so sayeth the claptrap in parenting books. So, Owen and I are standing in front of his bureau drawer, trying to decide which big-boy underwear to wear (until he pees it out thirty minutes later). He agonizes over the choices...Tow Mater or Elmo? Or should I shake things up a bit with T-Rex? He finally decides on a white sock. Visions of the Red Hot Chili Peppers swim through my mind. I say, "Owen, you're vastly overestimating yourself here."
Owen is pretending to make a smoothie with an empty blender (blade removed, thank you) and plastic fruit. He's given me two or three "glasses" to sample. He hands me another glass. I drink the air and tell him it's delicious. He looks at me like I'm an idiot and says, "That glass is empty, Mommy."
All this on a Monday.