Tonight for supper, I prepared a spicy vegetable soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. It was raining outside and comfort food seemed appropriate. Son #1 and my husband sat at the table as I put together their plates of food. They were especially excited about the grilled cheese sandwiches. I motioned for Son #2 to join us at the table. He promptly turned up his nose and squealed. "Uh! uh!"
Son #2 ran to the living room as fast as his little legs could carry him. I called to him. "Come here. Mmm. It's sandwiches. It's good. It's delicious."
Son #2 yelled. "Na No!" He shrieked defiantly and then hurled himself at the refrigerator door. "I want my ba!" (Translation: Bleep! Bleep! Get me my milk in my sippy cup!)
Was this my sweet toddler? I wasn't too sure. Who was this little, screamy thing that had replaced my sweet baby?
I opened the refrigerator door, poured the vanilla soy milk into the sippy cup, and lifted an eyebrow at Son #2. Then, I placed his cup onto the table beside his food. "Sit down, Baby. Here's your ba and your food." I encouraged.
Son #2 threw himself against a chair and spit as he rubbed his hands against his nose. This was to show his disdain at my suggestion. Then with a purposeful look upon his tiny face, Son #2 removed his booster seat and sippy cup from the premises. Painstakingly, he dragged them to the sofa in the living room. He faced the chair towards the wall, sat down, and gave us an icy cold shoulder as he drank his milk. When his milk was done, Son #2 strode to his room in silence.
My husband and I looked at each other. Shock and amusement shone on our faces. There was no denying it. Son #2 just dissed us.