A Partial Retraction

The genius child is a picky eater. Getting him to eat anything, unless he's in a pre-growth spurt is...CHALLENGING. Or, unless it's spaghetti carbonara. When he finds out we're having carbonara he turns into a shark that's just smelt blood. He eats it like a 16 year old which is entertaining yet terrifying since he's not yet 5.



Notice the two handed action.

Now, retraction. This child was told in not one, not two, but three different languages (English, Spanish & Swahili) not to touch the pan the spaghetti was in. And yes, smart ass, I can say 'don't touch' in Swahili. I can't spell it, but it sounds like U-See-kamata. Anyway, first thing he does is try to push Liam his bowl as I'm trying to drop spaghetti into it, earning him a hand full of hot pasta. Then he tries to move the pan with the back of his hand. Later, after his sixth bowl of pasta, he slips off the chair he's been standing on and hurts his knee. The chair that he'd been told 12 times to sit in, not stand on.

What can I say, he's his mother's son when it comes to food. Yes, I am going to pay for that dearly when she reads this, but I'm hoping I get a laugh or two out there for my pain.

Don't Make Me Angry, You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry

Yesterday while Bern was watching some movie trailers Connor asked to see the Hulk. She had to do something on the stove so she told him to wait a second and she'd do it when she came back. When she did come back she'd found he'd typed HULK into the URL. Just now he spelt it again on the fridge with some magnetic letters. I don't want to say my kid's a fuckin' genius or anything, but my kid's a fucking genius.