Ned has taken to being two like a duck to water. He’s banished the high chair, wont even sit in the Triptrap and takes himself up and down from the table at will during the course of our evening meal. Sometimes, like Saturday night, this has “hilarious” consequences.
|warning: may contain boy style violence|
Dinner was taking a normal turn for the dismal as the boy, already in a pique of temper as he had to tidy away his LEGO so we could eat (“BUT I’m not hungry!”), was pushed over the edge by a small spillage of tomato ketchup on his bright yellow jeans. He burst into tears, took himself away from the table and proceeded to roll around on the floor sobbing hysterically in the manner we’ve all come to know and love so well.
Ned, flexing his newly found dinner time mobility, calmly got down from the table, walked up to the recumbent 6 year old and slapped his hard across the forehead. He then got up, walked to the sofa and picked up the iPad. The boy reached a new level of hysteria.
Ned did his time (he did the crime after all) on the naughty step and was fully able to explain what he’d done to his big brother. I might be imagining it but I may have heard him say “Man up” too…