all images © Meghan Boyer Photography

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Bite Me

Lil - "So we gather up ALL the animals and eat them?"

Mom - "Well, just the pigs, cows, and chickens.  And oh yea, turkeys too."

Grady - "We don't eat pigs!"

Mom - "Yes, we do.  We eat bacon.  That's pig meat."

Grady - "We eat Pygmies?"

Mom - "No, PIG MEAT."

Grady - "Huh?"

I may just be on to something.  Pygmies, as defined by Encyclopedia Britannica, any group whose adult men grow to less than 150 cm (59 inches) in average height.  Eat your vegetables Grady.  Or we will eat you.  And then I'm reminded by our friends at Yo Gabba Gabba.  Don't.  Don't.  Don't bite your friends.  What about your kids?  Does that count?  And what if they're under 59 inches?   And what if they bite me first?  It only seems fair.

Most mornings Grady wakes up begging for pops, gum, and Rita's.  That kid can polish off an entire ream of Bubble Tape before you can say, don't swallow.   He pulls out the whole roll and bites off a chunk.  This morning he came to visit me in the bathroom.  Requesting Rita's.  I told him maybe we would get some at the Strawberry Festival today.  I thought Rita's might be there.  While peeing on the toilet crouching down to his level, I ask him for a kiss.  "After we get to the Strawberry Festival...and get Rita's."  He promises.  Can I bite you if you don't follow through?

We picked up Nanny for an adventure with the triple threat last weekend. She bit me and stole my bike. Karma Lillian caught up to her and rammed Nanny with her new polka dot on wheels.  Sending Nanny tumbling across the cul-de-sac. In other words, Nanny bit it.

The aftermath

Moments before the collision.  Notice Lillian's sneak attack from behind.

I think someone may have just bitten Nanny's butt.

So off we go to the Strawberry Festival this morning.  Me and the triple threat. Sean is biting people traveling for work. There is no Rita's representation at said festival. Damn you Rita's. I could bite you right now. So much for my kiss. There are snowballs. Blue ones. We order three and take them down to the beach. Where all members of the triple threat launch themselves, fully clothed, into the water. Random people offer me swim diapers. Bite me. I need a hell of a lot more than swim diapers people. A toddler struggles in the water next to me. I scoop her up and she asks me to take her home. Bite me kid. Do you give kisses sans Rita's?   Her mom wanders over to tell me she was watching her. Sure you were. Bite me lady. Make a Rita's run and this will all be forgotten.

We head back to the van for swim suits.  Grady walks aimlessly through the festival with snowball blue water.  He bites it.  Wipes out.   Snowball Blue water flies through the air.  People are staring at me.  Bite me people.  We make it to the van.  I get naked.  Inside the van.  Changing into my swim suit.    Begging Grady to please stop opening all the doors.   I go down the triple threat line.  Strip, redress.  Strip, redress.  Strip, redress.  Back to the beach.  Now that we're dressed for water, we play in the sand.

Moral of the story.  Don't.  Don't.  Don't bite your friends.   Or your kids, toddlers you save from drowning, slacker moms, and other random people.  And get naked in your minivan.  Yo Gabba Gabba will thank you for it.

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