Reality Bites Back!

a rare shot of the pearly whites

Jesse is turning out to be this playful, cheeky little monkey. And that's just the way I like it. When Mae was preggers with Jesse, I told her in no uncertain terms that if our boy turned out to be one of those quiet, docile, genteel little kids, we'd have to send him back to the hospital. "This one's broken," we'd tell the complaints dept. "Can we have one that makes funny faces and noises?"

I roughhouse with the little boy quite a bit. I'd toss him up in the air and catch him. I'd hang him upside down holding on to his little legs. I'd blow raspberries all over him. And he'd love it too, laughing his little head off. And sometimes when I was working (*ahem*) at the computer, he'd even taunt me. "Deh-deh!" he'd call out to me, smiling cheekily from ear to ear as he proceeded to crawl away from me. I usually obliged by crawling after him, catching up, turning him over and biting him all over. He'd squeal and screech with laughter. "Daddy's gonna eat you up," I'd tell him.

Yesterday, in another bout of WWE Smackdown! action the boy decided to return the favour. He lunged out at me knocking me down on my back and suddenly CHOMP! he closed his sharp little teeth, all four of them, on my belly. "Yowtch!" I yelped. As I winced in pain from his little choppers the boy clambered up onto my chest, stared into my eyes and proceeded to laugh himself silly.

I think I might have created a little monster.