Chasing the Hopping Bunny

Son #2 has a little brown and velvety toy Easter bunny that hops and sings when you press its paw.  Son #2 is fascinated by it. 

Yesterday morning, I pressed the bunny's paw and watched it hop around our living room.  Son #2 stood in awe as the bunny jumped and wiggled to it's little song.  When the song stopped, Son #2 toddled to the bunny and picked it up. 

I asked.  "Do you want to see it hop again?"  Son handed the bunny to me and smiled.  I pressed the paw once again but this time Son #2 began to chase the little toy bunny.

Around the room, the bunny hopped.  Close behind, my baby followed.  Son #2 laughed and gooed.  This time when the bunny stopped, Son #2 sat down on the floor and cried.  His little face scrunched up while tears filled his eyes.  Amused, I picked him up and said.  "What in the world little boy!  There's no need to cry.  Do you want to see the bunny hop again?"

Son #2 looked into my eyes and said.  "My Ba!"  (Translation:  My Bottle!)

I guess he's done chasing the hopping bunny.  He wants his bottle instead.

My Toy

Son #2 sat beside Son #1 and enviously watched as Son #1 wound his way through paper mazes.  Son #2 reached out his hand toward the marker and thought.  "Gimme.  Mine."

Son #1 moved the marker away from his brother's chubby, little hand and continued to work on his task.

Son #2 leaned forward and reached as far as he could toward the enchanting paper and marker.  His facial expression said.  "Gimme, gimme, gimme.  Mine."

So determined.

Son #1 ignored him and scooted closer to his abuelita.

On Son #2's third attempt to pilfer the coveted toys, Son #1 exclaimed.  "Hey little baby!  Stop trying to get my stuff!"

This is how sibling rivalry begins.