I Probably Shouldn't Laugh At Him, But...

The evidences become more apparent with each new moon... Kovi is SO two.

Today we played in his sister's room, he with the Rock Band guitar (having labored quite intensively to retrieve it from the family room), she with an apple sippy cup from last Fall's apple orchard trip. Apparently, the cup was far more interesting because it became the subject of what could have been a bloody UFC cage match.

"And in this corner, wearing the cheetah leggings (thanks Lindsay!) and pink smocked top, weighing in at a buttery 19lbs, Ever the Chubby Puppet Gaaaaann."

"Wearing the camo pants and orange striped robot shirt, weighing in at bicep-building 29lbs, Kovi the Terrible Two's Woog Gaaaaaann."

With the bickering building up, I intervened and settled the disagreement, giving Ever back her apple and attempting to interest a very disheartened Woog in something equally cool...like my bellybutton. No go. Teething rings hanging from my ears. Nothin. Balanced a book about Dogs on my head. Rejected. No matter how much of an ass I made of myself, he continued to delve deeper into pissyness.

*Buckle up kids...he's a performer.

He was already sobbing- the kind that made his face look like an old man or a raisin. His chin was tucked, so...a chubby raisin with shiny, razory chompahs. He started swatting at the air like he was shooing flys or a bad Dublin fart. I tried to sing Wheels on the Bus, but he swatted faster making his curls bounce and sob drool zip out of his mouth willy nilly. Then he went over to Ever's crib and rammed it with his head, not hard, but he was committed to displaying his displeasure. More swatting. More raisin face. Drool zinging.

I ignored the behavior, moved out of the drool drop zone and focused on Ever who was beginning to enjoy Woog's show. She mimicked his swatting and squealed.

She and I played eat the apple, or her version, slobber on the apple until it drips with slime then shove the slimy apple into Mom's eye taking care to run said apple down the length of Mom's face with forceful concentration around the sensitive throat area. Kovi's agitation grew and he responded with a full-body drop and flail. He pelvic-thrusted in the air, raisin, thrust, raisin, thrust.

Then, it was as if the clouds parted and God appeared holding a delicious train-shaped cookie that puffed the words "dog-dog" from it's smoke stack just for him. And all became right in his little world.

Hooray for Two...this should prove interesting and wet.