As I’m starting this week’s column, it’s fairly late in the evening and I’m procrastinating. Now you may be thinking, writing a column doesn’t sound like procrastinating at all. However, my wife has asked me to go knock down a wasps nest, so it’s possible this is the last thing I’ll ever write.
When my son started eating proper food, he would try to eat everything: from Japanese food unfamiliar to us to pure lemon juice and wood chips he would try and shove it into his mouth without complaints. For the last few weeks, he had been suddenly been behaving surprisingly picky. A lot of the food he would be given would be either spit out or fed straight to the dog (who obliged all too willingly).
I’m pleased to announce he’s had a complete reversal on that position to eating absolutely everything. In addition to opening himself back up to all kinds of food (like watermelon and blackberries), he’s also proudly tried to eat things like toe jam/lint stolen from my slippers (devolving in a full-on meme war on my wife’s Facebook page), cow poo (an infatuation we’ve not been complying with) and, the latest addition, bubbles from his soapy bath (he was so obsessed it was a full on struggle not to let him down fist after fist).
With that kind of scavenging, you’d think he was starving but the toe jam/lint incident was after lots of breastmilk, half a chicken and a full banana.
As a bonus addition, he’s somewhat regressed from having been down to one nap a day and returned to two but making up for it by an evening spurt of energy that keeps him up late. Today my wife tried to keep him from having a second nap (so he would sleep better in the evening) by taking him outside but he promptly crawled onto the dog bed and went to sleep.
After months of walking with assistance, however, he’s also finally figured out that… he can crawl without using his knees. This has resulted in a weird ape/Gollum like scampering crawl.
This, unfortunately, is the full extent of my updates which means it’s time to disturb some wasps.
Oh well, if things don’t quite go right maybe I’ll be forced to stay at home and my wife can feed me some watermelon, sock lint and bubbles?
