First, I need to point out that I am typing this with my fingers covered in band aids because I'm a dumbass and this could take me right next to forever. I have a mild allergy to latex. You know those rubber gloves that are so great for when you want to clean but don't want to drown yourself in cleaning solution?
They eat my skin right the hell off.
Most bandages do the same thing. Between the glue and the latex it's amazing that I have skin on my hands at all. But every now and then, I forget myself and end up doing some serious damage.
Do you know how hard it is to type when your fingers are covered in clothy band-aids and neosporin?
Very damnity hard. I have to keep going back and deleting things because otherwise it would read like this: anmd I cxant'; ikmagfinwe thnjat rthuis weolsd bne dfuhbn tro reazd (spell check hates me!)
Anyway, charge. Baby X is no longer Baby X. I guess I could call him Toddler Ex but it just doesn't have the same appeal. For now he'll be Boy. If you have suggestions, I'm open to them.
Why is he no longer Baby X?
Because he is walking. WALKING! Not just a toddle here and there. Not just the two steps it takes to grab Cat's tail and swing him around. Full on, around the house in 60 seconds walking. He still has a little bit of a John Wayne strut, the way he swings his hips and keeps his knees fairly stiff. I keep expecting him to look at me and say "Come on Pilgrim, hand over the cookies." But no, he just smiles at me, sticks out his hands and in the most hopeful and sweet voice he can muster "cookie?"
Cat is soooo over him now. This walking thing was just the last straw. Before, Cat could get away simply by jumping out of reach and fast. Boy would get bored and move onto the next thing to destroy.
Now that he can walk, and he's getting faster, Cat can't hide. Boy climbs, crawls faster and is onto some kind of teleportation trick that I want to learn so badly, Cat is doomed. Cat is looking through the want ads for a new home. I think of he could use the phone, he'd place his own ad.
WANTED: Home with lots of cozy chairs to sleep in. Meow Mix a must. Dogs are negogiable. NO KIDS. Will allow occasional petting.
The teleportation thing is making me crazy. One minute he's with me in the kitchen and the next he's down the hall and into my room emptying the clean laundry I had just folded. When I go to pick it back up, he's playing with his truck. I blink and he instantly vanishes to the living room and on top of Cat to boot.
If anyone can explain this to me, I'll give you a cookie.