The Many Uses Of Legos + 1

How many uses can you come up with for Legos?
I have one more for you...

My sister spent minutes building a hollow tower out of Mega Block Legos.  She was so proud of her masterpiece.  When she left to get a Barbie to live in her tower, I took full advantage of the opportunity to utilize it for what I saw would be a better use...

Before anyone knew what was happening, I pulled down my pants & squeezed out what minimal pee I had left (as I had recently used the actual toilet to relieve myself).

Bet you didn't see that one coming...neither did my sister.

Train Thief

I Love Trains!  I am mesmerized by them.
Especially when they surround scale models of Detroit made out of Legos.

I happened across just such a train (and as an added bonus, a model of the highly useful "People Mover") today at Henry Ford Museum.  It had a feeble attempt at a security system with a three-sided gate and 80 year old security guards.

As I was following the train with my eyes, my body couldn't help but follow.  Being only thigh-high, I am able to maneuver through crowds much quicker than my Mom.  I followed that moving wonder all the way to the end of the gate.  It was then really no problem for me to squeeze my tiny body around the end of that movable gate and pick up the circling "people mover" from the tracks.
Almost simultaneously, my Mom picked me up, handed over the train, and offered her standard, "Sorry about that" to the disapproving looking Grandma-Guard.

They really should consider amping up security if they want to keep out two year old threats to Museum safety.

Booty Bump

I love making people laugh.  It's just who I am (as third-born, I didn't really have a choice).

I have come up with a hilarious new technique for making people laugh uncontrollably, while simultaneously embarrassing the crap out of my Mother.
It's the perfect scenario.

I have invented the "Booty-Bump" and it goes a little something like this:
I duck-waddle myself backwards into any unsuspecting victim, yell "BOOTY" & then pass gas on them.

The gas part is very stealth-like, so most don't know that's actually the purpose of the game (making it's execution that much funnier).  The waddle is just the diversion to get in backwards and have a more direct line of fire.

It is positively the funniest thing I do.  I actually fell over from laughter today because it's so comical.

So...if you see me shaking my tail feather in your direction, my Mom's advice to you is, "don't stick around to see what happens next".
My advice, "stand still and let the magic happen"!
My contagious laugh is worth the price you will pay.

GQ

Don't check your browsing history...you didn't accidentally leave the B-Blogs & navigate to GQ.

It's just me posing for my latest photo shoot with "1000 Words Photography".

That smart photo lady bribed me with the promise of one of my sweet, sweet addictions (Smarties) & I willingly conceded.

The smile & charm I get from my Daddy.

Not as easily photographed, the Chutzpah I get from my Mommy.

You don't speak Yiddish?  We don't either, but my Pappy looked it up & he says it reminds him of my Mom.

Whatever it is, I'm glad I've got it.

And so is my Mom...usually.

Flying Reindeer?

Just as unbelievable as envisioning a jolly-sized man squeezing down my chimney on Christmas Eve, today I met the beasts he claims to fly him around, pulling his sleigh through the air.
Fly? Right...These hairy creatures couldn't even stand when I went to visit them!

It makes me question, what other fabrications are my parents telling me?

Day 2 - The Ban Is Lifted

PIECE OF CAKE!  I even got a sticker for being so good.
I don't know what my Mom was so worried about; I know exactly what I am doing.

When I didn't want to be there, I just bit someone.
(PS~ Sorry if you were subject to being a pawn in my master plan)
After biting, they would (quickly) get my Mom...exactly what I wanted.

Now I look forward to a little time away from her.  She's always following me around and asking me what I am doing.
Give a boy some space!

My only complaint about my gym sanctuary is what tattle-tales they are.  They "report" every little thing, including my love of hand sanitizer.  Not the enjoyment I get from putting it on my hands, but of consuming it.
I guess my Mom can start planning my debut on A&E's Grammy winning series "Intervention".

Day 1 - The Ban Is Lifted

I'M BACK!  My temporary ban from the gym daycare has been lifted.  My Mom was able to leave me there for 60 whole minutes & I was an angel.
Now she can quit blaming me for those mysterious 10 lbs & take some accountability in her love of all things salty, crunchy & begin with the word "Lays".
Dear Mother, I lay claim to many of the wrongs you have encountered since my arrival into this world, but the junk in your trunk is all you sista'.

I'll let you know if I fall off the wagon tomorrow when she attempts a second day.
We shall see.

Christmas Steam Room

Wanting to show off my independence, I decided to take it upon myself to wash off the sticky residue left from candy cane I was FINALLY able to enjoy (thank you, Aunt Judy!)
I took myself to the bathroom, closed the door, locked it, and turned on the water.

Apparently 2 minutes is too long of a time to be out of my Mother's sight, so she came to find me.  When she heard the water running and discovered the door was locked, she calmly asked me to unlock & open the door.  Being unfamiliar with this new kind of lock (as we were at my Nanny & Pappy's house), it was much harder to unlock than it was to lock, especially with wet soapy hands.

Naturally, panic set in, and her voice started getting louder.  I know she means business when her volume gets turned up.
When she couldn't jiggle the handle hard enough to open the door (why do people do that, anyways?) she called upon my Dad.
Then the crowd stared to gather.
I'm at my best in a crowd, so naturally, I involved the entire family in my rescue.

If the question is "how many adults does it take to free a 2 year old from a bathroom?" I will tell you the answer is "5".

After approximately 10 minutes, the door was finally ajar, the steam had settled & I took full advantage of all of the comfort being offered up.
I even conjured up a tear or two for effect.

Evidently, the potential for flood, 2nd degree burns and a Nordic-style steam room is increased exponentially the longer the hot water faucet is turned to full-blast.
Note to self: when there are two knobs, use the hand you don't throw with to turn on the water.
Got it.

Just trying to give the extended family a little glimpse into the reality of the B-Blogs!
Merry Christmas!

Santa Is Watching

Just because things are hung high upon the Christmas tree, does not mean I can't see them.
I'm short, not blind.
All of those ornaments you call "fragile" are nestled well beyond my reach, creating a very top-heavy effect on our new indoor nature feature.  It's not the ornaments I care about...it's the red & white sticks of sweetness shaped like an upside down "J".

And that has become my new mission in life.

After many failed attempts to attain these candy sticks, I was forced to resort to drastic measures.
Needing to bypass the height issue, I drug the counter stool next to the tree and pushed it as close as possible.  After maneuvering past some pesky branches, my target was finally within reach.

It really was the perfect crime…if not for the cane-shape of the candy.

While attempting to remove the treat from the tree, it just wouldn’t come unhooked.
So I pulled.
When it still wouldn’t come off, I pulled some more.
That pesky little thing was attached in some way!
So I gave it a yank that would have removed the sword from the stone & some unforeseen circumstances put a wrench in my plan.

The Bad News: I fell off of the stool, hit my forehead on the floor, and the entire tree fell on top of me.
The Good News: I still had the candy cane in my hand.

Hearing the events at hand, my Mom quickly wiped, came to the scene of the crime & found the remnants of what was to be my greatest heist yet.

It didn’t take long to deduce what had transpired (she’s smart like that).
And after checking for any major contusions, placing the tree back to its upright position & cleaning up the shards of broken ornaments; guess what that woman did?

She took my treasure!

In a rage, I took off my underpants, spit on the wall & ran away.
Immature, I know, but I'm 2 and that's all I know.

Apparently, Santa is watching (at least that's what my Mom told me while she attempted to put my clothes back on).
Again with the creepy visions of a fat man sneaking around and keeping tabs on my every move to get me to be good.

If you're telling me I am going to wake up on Christmas morning to an empty stocking and no presents because of one minor infraction...
My reply: We shall see how tough you really are, Big Guy!

Schoolin' The Church Lady

Just another typical Monday, where we have to stop by the Church so my Mom can take care of - whatever it is she does there.
Lucky for me, I saw the big man, "Fader Len".  I don't get to spend too much time in his company on Sundays due to my parents' lack of tolerance for my enthusiasm in Church, as well as his obligations talking on the stage at the front of the Church.  So I had to run up to him & yell, "FADER LEN, NICE TO MEET YOU."  It is, after all, my favorite greeting.

Then it was off to the office of the Church Ladies.  My Mom usually lets me carry the "paperwork".  It's all very official, so naturally she trusts me with only the most important tasks.

If I haven't mentioned it before, the Church Ladies LOVE me.  Of course they do, what's not to love?

I made my customary entrance, yelled, "HELLO, LADIES", and after getting my usual sucker and cheek pinches, they asked if I have been a "good boy" this year.
(By the way, what is it with everyone asking if I've been good?)

Then one Church Lady asked, "Is Santa coming to your house on Christmas?"
My reply, "Dat Jesus' Birfday".
Lady, "And Santa comes, too."
Me, "Happy Birfday To Jesus!"
Lady, "I guess you're right."

You guess?!?
Aren't you a Church Lady?  Shouldn't you know such things?
Leave it to the children to school the Church Ladies.

Now THAT should count for some of those "good" points.

My Finger Painting Masterpiece

Riddle Me This, Mother?!?
Why would you bother to potty train me if you insist on keeping me in a cage while I sleep?
Of course, I mean that I still sleep in a crib, but essentially, it's a cage.
I can't get out at my own free will; I am a prisoner to my captors and am required to lay there until someone comes to retrieve me.

That being said...

Today was just one of those days that I was abruptly awoken by my bowels (not my favorite way to wake up).  Unable to take myself to the facilities, I was forced to relieve myself in the diaper I must wear during sleeping hours (that's a whole other set of issues I have with this establishment).

As a side note, our house is for sale.  My bowels, of course, do not care if we have a showing 30 minutes after they decide to wake me.  Because my Mother was frantically cleaning so we could scoot out before the prospective buyers arrived, she didn't hear me politely ask to be taken to the bathroom.  Needless to say, I didn't make it.

I laid there for what seemed an eternity.  Naturally, I got bored.

I decided to take advantage of the only available resource...a perfect match to the consistency of finger paint, my full diaper.

Not wanting to get anything on my bedding (that's just gross), I threw all of my linens on the floor and started creating.  I started with the slats of my crib.  Each individual slat had its own theme, but the entire masterpiece was called "Ode To Poo".

Not a lover of The Arts, my Mom didn't see the beauty in what I had created.  She mostly just cried.

I was quickly hosed off, dressed, and dropped at the house across the street.
After spending a few minutes at my Lady Abby's house, my Mom found her happy place and came back to get me.

Maybe this will prompt my parents to get me that Big Boy Bed I have been wanting.
If not, I have plenty more visions in my head of things to create, and the "finger paint" is in endless supply.

Do It Myself

I am going through a bit of a "do it myself" phase, so I would like to thank the cabinet makers for creating these ideal little "toe-holds" they placed on the front of each door.
Not to mention, they are on ALL of the doors, not just on the bathroom cabinets.
I am able to scale ANY cabinet in 2 seconds flat with the help of my monkey-toes.
I no longer need to bother my Mom when I need to do things like wash my hands, get some fruit or reach the spice cabinet.
That right, it's all within reach now.

As a side note, I am not completely sure what "oregano" is, but when sprinkled simultaneously with salt from atop a kitchen counter, it looks like some crazy nuclear snow storm.
("Nuclear Snow Storm" picture not available, due to the fact that my Mom thinks it may "encourage" my behavior if I see her photographing my naughty behavior.  That ship has sailed, Lady.  Snap away!)

PS~ As evidenced by my attire, my "do it myself" phase stretches to dressing myself as well.  I happen to think the muscle shirt, flower headband and silky blue Richard Simmons style sweat band will make a comeback on the runways for the 2012 season.  I am just a trend setter and visionary.

I think it's because I DO IT MYSELF!

I Am A Boy!

A little known fact...I am an Olympic Gymnast in training.  I have been studying my trade for many months now & I have already been called "the next Bart Conner".
Secretly, I like going to gymnastics because I am usually the only boy in class.
Today was one of those special days.

During our stretching time, we all sit in a circle on the mat & my teacher encourages us to make a straddle with our legs.  For those of you unfamiliar with gym lingo...that's when you spread your legs as far apart as possible, similar to a wishbone.
I am able to sit with my legs at 180 degrees.  Impressive, I know.
I am also able to stare at all of the girls attempt this feat of flexibility while I make astute observations.

With her legs in spread-eagle, I definitively told my teacher, "You a 'gyna".

My Mom was quick to TRY to correct (and hope no one else understood, due to my 2 year old accent) and said, "Yes, your teacher is a girl.  Brennan is a boy."

I was just a quick to correct her, so I stood up, pulled my pants down & yelled, "I A PENIS."

Yes, I am a boy.
More importantly, I know why I am a boy.
Now everyone else does too.
You're Welcome.

Holidays = Crazy + Warnings

When people say, "Happy Holidays", I've learned there's very little to do with actually being happy and more about people acting crazy & me getting lots of warnings.

Crazy Example #1:
My Mom & Dad brought a tree inside the house.  I don't mean a little plant, I mean a 7 foot tall pine.
Then, of all things, they strung it with lights...twinkly ones.
To top it all off, they put hangy-things & shinny balls all over it.  Just as a warning to anyone else who may be confused by this, they are NOT the kind of balls you throw.  Someone forgot to mention this important little tid bit to me, and I made the mistake of throwing one at my sister.  After bouncing off of her chest, it crashed to the floor.  I then thought, "what a strange ball"...so I got another one.  Guess what?  The same damn thing happened.  Who would make such an impractical toy?
Warning #1: Do not touch the ornaments.

Crazy Example #2:
The day after the tree went up, placed underneath I found a few of boxes wrapped in really pretty paper and tied with a bow.  I couldn't see what was in them, so naturally, I had to take the paper off to check it out.  Apparently, if the tiny tag doesn't say your name, you can't open it.
(PS~Grandpa, I have some very interesting information to share with you...call me).
Warning #2: Do not open the presents.

Crazy Example #3:
Now everyone is talking about being good and Santa might come to our house.  I've heard that when I go to sleep, he will come in the house via the chimney, eat our cookies, and leave everything I wish for under the tree.  Only one catch, I have to be a "good boy".
Lets put the creepiness of this issue aside for just a moment, and address the more important matter of physics.  I have sat on the lap of this man that they call "Santa".  If you are telling me that his 300+ pound frame is going to squeeze down the chimney with the jeep that I want, I may just rethink my behavior and try being good just to get a glimpse of that.
Now regarding the other little issue of being "good", isn't it all relative?  I have my moments, sure.  Who doesn't?  But does it count if it brings such joy to those who get the pleasure of reading about my day?  I think the minor embarrassment my Mom has to endure is worth the trade off for those loyal followers of The B-Blogs.
Warning #3: Be a good boy...or else.

I am not quite sure what to expect on this day called "Christmas", but until then, I'll report back with more of the crazy (which inevitably will be followed by  more of the warnings).

Man Cave

I'm home all day, every day surrounded by females.  And not the good kind, like my harem of hotties.  It's my Mom, my two sisters and the inevitable "play date" that they both have on a regular basis.  It's brutal.
Sometimes a guy just needs to escape to his own space, his sanctuary where he won't be bothered.  Today was no different.
I have a favorite little spot I like to call my "Man Cave".  It's nothing fancy, just a space to call my own.
My Mom calls it her dryer, but we all know how often that thing gets used, so needless to say, it's often vacant.
I made the mistake of taking my voice altering megaphone into my Man Cave, which aided in the discovery of my whereabouts and the abrupt end to some much needed "Me Time".

My Mom videoed her "Man Hunt" for the entire world to see; now I'll never get any peace and quiet.  I'm on the search for a new Man Cave...any suggestions?

Kid Friendly

Glad to see that my favorite restaurant has gone away from its original kid friendly environment and opted for a more sophisticated decorating scheme.  No more booths, just 3+ foot high backless, swivel stools at one long counter as well as free-standing (movable) leather bench/couches at shiny granite-like tables.
Brilliant.
Even the colors are tastefully neutral and sleek.  Oranges and browns have replaced the tired red and yellow of yesteryear.

What restaurant has smartly gone from kid's paradise to posh coffee house with free Wi-Fi?

McDonalds, of course!

While visiting this new hot-spot, my Mom sat my sisters and I in the brown leather bench/couch closest to the register so she could order our meals.
I decided to test the durability (and movability) of this sweet new piece of furniture and pushed it (with my two sisters on board) across the floor.  Being less than 3 feet tall, I didn't see the giant billboard sign advertising new "peppermint mochas".
The couch took out the sign, sending it crashing into a full mop bucket.  The mop handle then flung into the air, and like a bad game of "mouse trap" everything came collapsing to the floor.

With tears in her eyes, my Mom quietly said, "Make that order to go."

Luckily the manager thinks I'm "as cute as roly-poly" (whatever that means), and she couldn't resist my sincere "I sorry.  I clean up."

It didn't work nearly as well on my Mom.

PS ~ chicken nuggets don't taste nearly as good when they are served with a cold side of guilt.

Got Milk?

I learned so much today at Dairy Discovery.
I saw cows eat, pee & poop (not necessarily in that order).
I fed a calf from a giant bottle & much like all the other babies I know, they didn't mind sharing just a little sip with me (there was plenty to go around, no need for them to eat like a cow).
Finally, we visited the milking station...and that's when the fun began.
After the teacher took the "milkers" off the cow, she showed us where the milk came from.  She even drank right from the spraying cow.
Wanting to get in on that action, I walked next to the source & she squirted the warm, unpasteurized drink directly into my mouth.  That's when I saw them...ALL FOUR OF THEM!
I wiped my chin & yelled "PENIS MILK" (much to the teacher's amusement).
She said she had never heard it called that.
Really?  It just seems obvious.

Hang On

SWEEEEEEEET! I just discovered the BEST THING EVER!
After opening the door into the garage & directing me to get into the car, my Mom realized that she had forgotten her purse inside the house.  She then pressed the garage door opener & turned around to go back in the house to get her purse.

Seeing the door rise was all I needed to conjure up the idea that I should grab onto that baby & see where it takes me.  I ran to the door & grabbed the bottom lip for what was to be an AWESOME RIDE!

My Mom returned to find me dangling from the open door like a trained chimp.  I have decided that I have amazing finger strength and, I should mention, my Mom moves pretty fast in 3 inch heels.

Told you it was sweet!

Double Meaning

Having impeccable manners is just how I was raised.  So naturally, when my nose decides it has a mind of it's own and it runs uncontrollably, I need to take care of it.
I didn't realize that politely asking someone to help me with this task would cause such a stir.
After getting a Kleenex, I nicely asked my cousin, "BLOW ME?".
Upon hearing this, my Mother quickly tried to correct my question and said, "Please, help me wipe my nose."
No.  I meant, "BLOW ME."  No wiping, just blowing.
Once the laughter subsided, I thought, why is this so funny?
Then I decided, I didn't care.  Funny is funny, so I will make a song out of it.
It goes a little something like this...
"Blow Me, Blow Me, Blow Me, dadadadadadada.  Blow Me, Blow Me, Blow Me, dadadadadada." (repeat)

I sang this all morning, all during our shopping trip to Meijer and all through lunch.
My Mom has decided to try to ignore me.  Good luck, it's a catchy little ditty.

Feel free to sing along & teach others with uncontrollably runny noses the same song.  Maybe, just maybe they will get someone to help them out too!

Thanksgiving...Preschool Style

Today I was allowed to join the big kids at their annual "Preschool Thanksgiving Celebration".  We ate applesauce, cinnamon muffins, cheese cubes & mini sausages (as for me, LOTS of mini sausages).
While dining on this feast, the little boy sitting next to my Mom pointed at me and asked her:
"Is that yours?"
Her reply: "Yes.  Would you like him?"
Boy: "No thanks, I have one at home."
Mom: "A little brother?"
Boy: "No, a dog."
Mom: "?Hmm? He's not a dog. Why would you say that?"
Boy: "Because he's eating his muffin off the floor & he bit me while we were waiting in the food line."
Mom: "Oh.  I guess you're right."
Boy: "I usually am."

Now, I feel compelled to tell you that said boy pushed me out of the line to get the mini sausages (my sister even saw), and THAT was the straw that broke the camel's back.
NEVER get between a boy & his food or I WILL go canine on your ass!

Table Manners

My  parents really struggle with the fine line between consistently teaching good table manners & just giving in and laughing at my antics.  Frankly, sometimes it's just TOO DAMN FUNNY NOT TO LAUGH!
Anyone want to join us for dinner?

Church Itinerary

I love Church!
My parents, on the other hand, think it's the most exhausting hour of the week.

This was Sunday's itinerary:
I sang "Ring-Around-The-Rosie" during "hold hands" time (though everyone else seemed to be talking about "Our Father").
I sang "Happy To You" (my own rendition of "Happy Birthday") when the newly baptized babies got their candles lit.
I accused Riley of pooping her pants during "shake your neighbors hand" time.
I laughed hysterically & yelled "TOOTIE! 'SCUSE YOU", when Avery farted during "close your eyes, fold your hands & be quiet" time.

My parents moved me to the "behind the glass" area so Fr. Len couldn't hear me anymore.  So I had to yell, "PEACE TO YOU, FADER LEN" for the remainder of Church so he would know I was still there.

I think a good time was had by all...all but my parents.
I can't wait til next Sunday!

I Always Listen

Mother, when you tell me to "put my water in the cup holder", please remember that I am 2 and I ALWAYS do exactly what I'm told.
So, after taking the top off of my water bottle, I filled the cup holder with the water & proceeded to use it as a splash pad for the remainder of the car ride home.
Thanks for the great idea & the 15 minutes of entertainment.

Pushing Buttons

In the time it took my mom to get out of the car & see my sister onto the bus, I was easily able to lock the car doors & call my new friend at On-Star Emergency.  When the nice gentleman asked "what's your emergency?", I simply replied "I push buttons".

My Mom agrees.

Going To School

Every morning, my Mom drags me to the bus stop to see my oldest sister off to school.  Now I don't know what this magical place is yet, but today I was determined to find out.
There are at least 40 kids waiting on the corner to squeeze onto the magic yellow tube, so I figured no one would notice if I made it 41.
I patiently waited in the back of the line, pretending to wave good bye to my sister and casually looking over my shoulder to see if I was in the clear.  The time had come; I saw an opening & I made my move.  Cutting off the poor soul that was about to step foot onto the bus, I finagled my way up the steps, only to be greeted by a very large "stop" hand & some words from a bus driver who's second language is barely English.
I think I could have made it past the smiley guard, but my Mom (the "buzz kill" queen) scooped me up, apologized, & led me back home.
Defeated, I wouldn't even hold that woman's hand.
Someday...Someday I'll get to that magical place called school & I'm sure I will never want to leave.

4 Boys = No Brains At All

Once each week I have a little get-together with the fellas.  We call it "Buddy Days".  This week my three amigos came over for some fun & as an added bonus, we discovered a very important lesson...

If three boys are doing something, it doesn't take much to convince the fourth boy to join in.

Today, it just happened to be three of us wearing Lightening McQueen undies, so we pressured boy #4, still clad in diapers, to join us in the next step towards manhood.
We then decided to test the waters & take it to the next level.  Three of us were hiding under the table sticking stickers to its underside, again, boy #4 felt compelled to join in.

So I have to wonder, how far will this go in the future?
By age 6, we'll all be peeing (or worse) in the woods behind the house.
By age 10, we'll see who can come up with the most disgusting, vulgar or inappropriate thing to say.
By age 17, we'll want to challenge each other to some spontaneous drag-races down Grand River.
By age 21, we'll have chugging contests and keg stands to prove just how much Natty Light we can handle.
By age 33, when we are married, have children of our own and know better, we'll be at a respectable Christmas party, have a few too many cocktails and challenge each other to a "squat competition" on our make-shift squat rack in the garage.
All it will take is three boys doing it & it suddenly sounds like a really good idea to the fourth.

Like my Nanny always says, "One Boy = One Brain, Two Boys = 1/2 Brain, Three Boys = Barely a Brain, Four Boys = No Brain At All."

As far as I am concerned, brains just get in the way of fun, so bring on the challengs & the four of us will be running the country in a few decades.

It's On!

Forgetting that I was not required to use a toilet for the duration of time spent with my Nanny & Pappy, my mom tried to take me out for some necessary errands and then to story time wearing just underpants.  Upon arrival, she was reminded that I will do what I want, when I want...even if that means in my car seat.
True to form, she toweled me off in the library parking lot, put a spare diaper on me & marched my bare-legged behind into story time.  Picture this...a diaper, a blue thermal shirt, blue & white striped socks, and that's it.  She didn't even bother to put on my cool boots!
What am I, some sort of W.T. baby who snacks on his own runny nose & bathes in puddles?
I have a reputation to uphold!  How am I supposed to be taken seriously with all that baby padding?  I saw some of my peeps, and couldn't explain my appearance, so I just pretended to be a dog.
She made a half-hearted effort to ask a few other moms with boys about my size if they had any spare pants, with no success.  So there I sat, in nothing but a Target-Brand diaper, forced to sing "The Itsy-Bitsy Spider" and listen to Ms. Jaque read another book upside down.

If you think this game of tug-o-war is over, you have another think coming, Lady.  IT'S ON!
You may have won the battle, but I will surely dominate in the war!

PS-If you think high-fructose-corn-syrup stuck to a toilet bowl via ketchup is hard to get off, just wait & see what's in store for you when I wake up from my nap...

Caught "Red" Handed

As usual, my Mom was a bit too distracted during the preparation of my hot dog, grapes, carrots & string cheese lunch.  It wasn't until she was looking for a particular condiment that she noticed my absence.  In her search, she came across this scene straight out of a horror film & no doubt had a momentary panic attack...

Upon further investigation (and the overwhelming smell of tomatoes), she deducted it was merely ketchup.
Fearing that this act may be frowned upon in this establishment, I found refuge in my favorite hiding place, the washing machine.  Little did I know, she also knows that this is my favorite hiding place (not to mention, I left a trail of tiny red footprints to my hideout), and I was caught "red" handed.

New Habits

It's been said that it takes 21 days to form a habit...I beg to differ.
In the course of just one week, I have managed to form two very entertaining habits...at least I think so.

1) Did you know that a dining table makes the perfect stage?  I do now.
I insist on standing on the table and singing my new favorite song: "Booty, Booty, Booty!", preferably during meal time.  I was unaware that a counter-height table would make such an ideal platform to preform, so thank you to all that allowed this discovery (you know who you are ;)

2) After taking a drink of any liquid, I insist on holding it in my cheeks chipmunk-style until someone notices.  The first to notice is usually the one on the receiving end of my mouth sprinkler.  That is unless everyone notices (which is my preference) and then it's like a game of Russian-Roulette, and the first to make me laugh hard enough gets sprayed.

PS~I think my Mom is secretly trying to video these fantastic new habits because she finds them just as hilarious as I do, but she would NEVER admit it.  Keep your eyes peeled for a video uplink soon, I think she's looking to meet Bob Saggat on AFHV.

Welcome Home

Someone forgot to mention they would be taking a 9 day trip to somewhere that made them really brown and even more smiley.  That's right, my parents left me for over a week in the loving care of my Grandma & Grandpa for 4 days & my Nanny & Pappy for 5 days (at least they still love me).
Not that I'm complaining about the accommodations...
*I got to wear a diaper again, and talk about freedom.  No need to stop anything I was doing to use the pesky toilet.
*I ate whatever, whenever I wanted.
*I learned that "Curious George" is not only a hilarious kids show, but also a useful resource for "Curious Brennan" should I require new ideas when it comes to getting into trouble.
*I had a personal "slave" to follow me around and take care of my every need (Although, I think this perk was more out of fear that I may or may not set the house on fire on a whim).
*I learned the manipulation of Self-Inflicted Time-Outs, and it goes a little something like this:
1) I push, hit, bite, or in general, terrorize some unsuspecting soul;
2) I yell "Time-Out" and throw myself to the ground in an artificially induced fit;
3) Approximately 4 seconds later, say "Sorry" to said soul (remorse not necessary);
4) Repeat steps 1-3 at will.  Works like a charm.
*I learned that it doesn't take long for my Nanny to "just rest her eyes for a minute" while my sister quickly turns me into a cat with a little help from Crayola...

As a punishment, I have decided to call my male parental unit "Tony" and completely ignore my female parental unit.  As in: "Tony, wake up!", "Tony, take me potty!", "Tony, where my breakfast?"  I'll throw the other one a glance at times, only enough to make her feel guilty, though.
We'll see how many trips they plan in the near future.

Welcome Home, Tony & You.

Withdrawal

I. NEED. MORE. CANDY!
While taking my sister outside for her carpool ride, my Mom left me alone with my NEW addiction & I found "the stash".  I couldn't help myself, I jumped right in the bucket & dug in.
While still chewing the Twix and Hershey Kiss, I shoved a Twizzler in.  I don't even need to chew, just ingest.

Why would such a "holiday" be created?  It's like having "national crack day" & giving everyone just one hit for free.  You know they will come back for more...they have to.
Now my Mom is cutting me off COLD TURKEY!  I saw her dump the bucket of goodness in the trash...THE WHOLE BUCKET!  Now what am I supposed to do?  Maybe toothpaste has some high fructose corn syrup, I can lick the bathroom counters and get at least a few grams.

I can already feel the shakes coming on!  WHY?!?  Just one hit to help with the withdrawal!
Someone, Anyone, PLEASE bring me some candy.  I will pay, oh, I will pay plenty!

Searching...       

JACKPOT!!!

Women: Lesson 3

"Everything I need to know about women, I learned from THE B!"
Lesson 3:
Being only 2, I don't claim to know much about women, but this much I know to be true:
1) There's usually a method to their madness.
And,
2) "The Look" followed by, "I told you so" is just about the most humbling statements they can utter.

Take it from me fellas, when a women nicely "asks" you to do something, don't question, just say "Yes, Dear" and move on.

*For a practical application of this lesson, see: "Disappearing Act X 10 + Danger = Near Heart Attack"

Disappearing Act X 10 + Danger = Near Heart Attack

My Mom still wonders why my Dad questions her decisions to do things.
For example...my car seat is placed in the third row of her SUV.  Why?  If you recall, I enjoy rolling down the widow & making my shoes disappear.
On this particular day, in a hasty rush, my Dad put my seat in the middle row & neglected to enable the "child safety lock" on the door.  I quietly took off my shoes and grabbed two books.  While traveling at a swift 45 MPH, the overhead lights and the loud dinging from the alert system notified my parents that I had thrown open the door & almost simultaneously out went my sandals & the books.
After the screaming stopped, the panic subsided , and she determined her pulse was at an acceptable rate, my Mom gave my Dad "The Look".

As a follow-up, see "Women: Lesson 3, Everything I need to know about women, I learned from THE B!'"

Mixed Messages

Just spent the evening in the most peculiar way.  My mom put me in a Mickey Mouse suit, gave me a bucket, and sent me out the door to go knocking on all of my neighbors door's asking for candy.  All I had to do was say "Trick-Or-Treat" then "Thank You".

WHAT?!

She spends 364 other days a year keeping candy from me and telling me to leave the neighbors alone.
Talk about mixed messages.
I am now trying to come out of the sugar coma from the 47 lbs of sugar I consumed in the form of full-size candy bars, multiple feet of licorice, and the 3 foot gummy-snake my mom got me.  That's right, the woman gave me three feet of chewy heaven & thought I would use my best judgement in "stopping when I had enough".  Don't you know "enough" to a two year old is when I fall to the floor in convulsions from the overdose of toxins.

Let's review...

1) Pretend to be somebody else. Check.

2) Get a bucket. Check.

3) Approach strangers and beg for food. Check.

4) As long as you say "Thank You", you can go to the next stranger and repeat step 3 until you're too cold to stay out any longer. Got it.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Underwear Pockets

BEST INVENTION EVER...Underwear pockets!  I don't know why they are placed in the front, it makes carrying things a bit awkward, but still awesome none the less.
So many perks...hiding my sister's "littlest pet shop" dogs, hanging an umbrella, placing lost change I come across, & the obvious, a convenient pocket to rest my tired hand in.
Like most cool things invented by a man with a man (or aspiring man) in mind I can't wait to see what other treasures it will hold and, more importantly, what other functions it possesses.

My Addiction

For those of you who are unaware of the addiction I have been fighting for over a year now, it's time I came clean and admitted that I may have a biting problem.  It's a tough battle that I fight every day, but I am working hard to overcome it.
I have been asked to "take a break" (my Mom calls it "getting kicked out") from two separate Gym daycare rooms, and my Mom is starting to blame my "illness" (A&E calls it that, so I will too) for the "extra-10" she's mysteriously packed on.
The only thing I have going for me is I usually let someone know it's coming (it's only fair) and then I willing put myself into a "Time-Out" (just cutting out the middle man).
Now, I'm not trying to justify the "why" (although I do believe I have a valid reason for each and every nibble...from self-defense to displaced shows of affection).
Nor will I point the finger at any particular influence.
But...

Lets call a spade a spade here, Folks.
This is an excerpt from my all-time FAVORITE book, "Hop On Pop".  I think the picture speaks for itself.
More critical analysis of this timeless classic in future posts...

Child Locks

The only thing that "child locks" on cupboards keep out are adults. I can squeeze my fat little nugget arm into the small gap & get out my arsenal of spray bottles anytime I feel the need for a little sniper-action.
My mom made the mistake of trying to confiscate my stolen bottle of Windex & I tagged her right between the eyes.
Stand back, Sista, I don't have to miss.

Boys & Girls Are Different

If you've ever wondered, "How old is too old for my children of the opposite sex to bathe together?"...
My mom thinks the answer is 2 years, 7 months & 4 days.

As you know, I am obsessed with my favorite boy part as well as my plump rump.  What boy isn't?
During a shower with my sister, I decided it was crucial to repeatedly point out the very obvious differences in our anatomy.  I'm not sure if you are aware, but we are NOT the same & I am very curious about that.
Then, during a game of "hide the dinosaur", my sister did not find it nearly as amusing as I that a very small brontosaurus fits perfectly between my butt cheeks (making the finding of said dinosaur nearly impossible, not to mention awkward for my sister).

I am going to investigate these differences further...I'll report back soon.
Stay tuned for my discoveries.

Trapped

I told my sister, "be dog in cage.".  The convincing was too easy, so I thought I would prolong the fun & sit my 33 lb body on top of the basket, rendering her trapped & unable to escape.  Super-Genius Brennan has outsmarted the 6  year old AGAIN! Score: Brennan=3, Riley=0.
Don't trust the innocent smile, I know exactly what I'm doing.

Naked Flash

When my mom came in to get me from my nap, I greeted her with a big smile & NOTHING else. I am now obsessed with being naked & lovin' it! As soon as she turns her head, it's off with the pants.  No matter where I am or what I'm doing, I always have time for a little naked flash around the house.
If she tries to make me descent again, I sit on the floor straight-legged, shove my undies between my thighs & clench. I wonder what else I can hide from her in there?
More tomorrow...

Roller Coaster

What do you get when you combine a laundry basket & stairs?  A homemade roller coaster , OF COURSE!  It wasn't until after scooting to the edge & launching that I considered breaks.  Don't worry, the front door halted all forward motion & I made sure to pad myself with my blanket and favorite stuffed animal, Fluff.  I am looking further into "Inventors-R-Us" for the development of basket air-breaks.  Maybe I'll get my sisters in on this idea, they are always full of great suggestions & willing to use me as a test dummy.

Rug Burn

I learned a very important lesson today...
Whey trying to escape from your mom after your bath, via sliding down the stairs feet-first on your belly at an extremely high speed, it is VERY IMPORTANT to remember underwear!  Rug burn is not fun.  It's especially unpleasant when it's under my Mickey Mouse undies.
Next time...turn over.

Women: Lesson 2

"Everything I need to know about women, I learned from THE B!"
Lesson 2:
While chillin' with my "neighborhood hottie", I turned my back on her for one second & BAM!  A chilly reminder as to why you never turn your back on a woman...especially if that lady has seen the pics you posted with your "out-of-neighborhood hottie."  Lesson learned.

Women: Lesson 1

I'm thinking of branching out to other blogs... coming soon:
"Everything I need to know about women, I learned from THE B!"
Lesson 1:
Show up unannounced at your lady's house on her birthday with flowers and a balloon.  When she answers (& all of her relatives HAPPEN to be there with her) give her the gifts, a kiss & then turn to leave.  After your mom straps you in your car seat, patiently wait 25 years until she's of-age to marry you.  In the mean time, add more shenanigans to The B-Blogs.
Hopefully she has forgiven (and forgotten) the minor infraction of biting her face (twice) you are guilty of...even if your shirt gives you away.

The Blender

Guess what happens when you reach your arm around your Mom really stealth-like to turn on a blender that has a metal spoon in it (while your Mom is standing right next to it, snapping the cup lid on the smoothie she just poured)?
After the shards of plastic stop flying, the glass pitcher has landed (in one piece, remarkably) & the smoothie has COVERED the room...your Mom starts to cry.  Then she starts talking about drinking...the smoothie all over her face must have made her thirsty.

Parmesan Cheese

Parmesan cheese...good on pasta, GREAT for dumping an entire can on a glass-top coffee table & driving my trains through!  It looks like the first tire tracks on freshly fallen snow.  How serene.
My moms reaction...not so serene.  Way to kill the mood, Lady.

Disappearing Act

She's on the brink folks...
My Mom thought she was going CRAZY when she swore (a few times) that I had shoes on when we left the house for the gymnastics open house, only to discover my bare feet and innocent smile when we arrived.  Little did she know that I did actually have them on, but she made the mistake of not locking the windows of the car, making my "disappearing act" possible.
My Dad had to go and foil my plot by finding them on the road right by our mailbox, AND he ratted me out.  Work with me, Man, we are on the same team.

Dads Turn

During a brief shopping trip to Meijer (there were only two items on his list), my Dad decided it would be quicker to NOT get a basket to contain me.  Mistake #1.
He successfully found the coffee with me in tow, and was off to the pop aisle.  While searching for the Coke, my Dad was momentarily distracted and took his eyes off me.  Mistake #2.
Luckily for me, the pop aisle is "built" from stacks of cases of pop with approximately 12 inches between between flavors.  I squeezed my body between the sprite & diet coke and sat very quietly.  Watching my Dad run up and down the aisles in a panic was more than I could handle, and I couldn't contain my laughter anymore.  It was the giggle that gave me away.  He finally found my awesome hiding place and my gig was up.  Just a little taste of what I dish out to my Mom daily.
Lesson learned.

Dips

Like the juice-heads before me, the decline after a 'roid high has been dramatic and brutal.  I have been a certifiable A-Hole all week.  From taking my shoes off in stores & maliciously throwing them at unsuspecting passer-byers, to sneaking up behind my sisters and pulling them to the ground by their hair.
I have also discovered the joy of some new-found strength.  Because my rear is smaller than the opening of the commode, I have to support myself with stiff arms while sitting upon it.  The strength comes in the form of my new favorite exercise, tricep-dips.  While supporting myself, I have found the joy in "dipping" my rump into the bowl below.  As an added bonus, I now have a "poor-man's Bede".  After a few more sets, I'll really be able to use some of this strength to my advantage.  And like the greats who came before me (the likes of "Big John Stud", Randy "Macho Man" Savage, "The Ultimate Warrior" and the infamous Ken Petara) my fall, much like a fire-ball headed toward the earth, will be epic.

Just Not Knowing Any Better

Here's the upside to pretending to "just not know any better"...
When I innocently hand my Mom the chunk of hair that I just cut off my sister's head, she just looks confused.  I don't try to hide it, I just smile because "I just don't know any better".  I can usually bank on my innocence & cuteness carrying me pretty far. ;)

Here's the downside...
It doesn't always work.  And no matter how cute the new hair cut is after the hairdresser fixes my masterpiece, my Mom is still pissed.

Upwind

Dear Mom,
Thank you for FINALLY potty-training me.  I think the beach is the perfect place to learn.  If I could spell, I would have written my name in the sand!
As a side note, you think you would have learned the power of the wind after the beach ball incident...NEVER STAND UPWIND OF A BOY PEEING!  Thanks all the same.

Insanity

My speed = exactly 1 mph less than the speed of the wind blowing my beach ball down the Lake Huron shoreline.  My Mom's speed = just fast enough to catch said ball without spilling her coffee.  As an added bonus, she simultaneously recreated a bad parody of "Baywatch: Where Are They Now?".  Ever heard of an under wire, Lady?  Call Victoria, it's not really a secret.

Did I mention I KNEW I couldn't catch the ball? ;)  That crazy woman chased my beach ball at least 1/2 dozen times.  Remind me again...What's the definition of insanity?

B On 'Roids

My day started off kind of rough.  Not being able to breath really slows a brother down.  Finally admitting she had no formal or informal medical training to accurately diagnose me, my Mom took me to the ER at Helen DeVos Children's Hospital.  A big shout out of "THANKS" to the the awesome staff who took care of me (minus that one in the Dora scrubs who took my temp the hard way...not awesome).
Things only got better from there...
I got to breath in some cold air from a super cool machine like Peter Pan did with the Indians (only I didn't have to share).
I got my picture taken (twice) & said "Cheese" for the lady named X-Ray.
Then they gave me the ROIDS and almost immediately I stood on the bed, ripped the glowing red tape from my toe, threw it to ground & yelled "I ALL DONE HERE!"  The Roid-Rage set in a bit sooner than anticipated, but I'll take the good with the bad.  I think I should have hit the gym for a few sets before heading home.

PS-Diagnosis is something called "Croup" and "Upper Respiratory Infection".  I don't know what that means, but what I do know is I got to cuddle with my Mom ALL day, got french fries on the way home & heard "Hop On Pop" as much as I wanted...I'll call this glass "half-full".

A Bowl Is A Bowl

I am a messy eater...what 2 year old isn't?  When I'm done with lunch, it is usually the case that I must be stripped of my extremely soiled clothes so I can nap without snacks for later.
On this particular day, the freedom of nudity caught me in the right mood & I proclaimed, "I pee on floor!"  My mom quickly shot down that idea & went to put my dirty clothes in the laundry room.  Learning from my mistake of telling my Mom BEFORE I am going to do something, I decided to execute and THEN tell.  When she returned, I had filled the decorative bowl on the bottom shelf of a table by our front door.  I proudly proclaimed, "I pee in bowl!".  C'mon Mom, didn't you see the foreshadowing, and you still left me alone?

Josephine's Baptism

I am sitting in the car OUTSIDE of church, because my Mom doesn't see the joy in my singing every song to the tune of "Happy Birthday" nor does she appreciate my sweet pitching arm.  It's not my fault the baptismal font is so tempting that I have to try to score 2 points.  I'm sure your keys needed to be baptised, anyways.
It probably didn't help that while fishing the keys out of the pool, the seat of my Mom's new dress ripped.  I don't think the "lucky you're cute" excuse is going to work this time.
God Bless you, Josephine!

The B-Show

Just reaffirmed my belief that I am the most entertaining kid on the planet.  Apparently, our neighbors enjoy watching "The B-Show" (my sisters bouncing me like a hot kernel of popcorn our trampoline) as much as I like performing.  So today I gave them a REAL show...I decided to pants myself for the good of the show (they were weighing me down anyways, I think).  When my Dad came to re-robe me I threw them at him like a football.
PS-I have a new favorite game involving my underpants & playing football.

Future Inventor

Dear QVC,
I believe I have something here...follow me for a moment.
Say, you are a two year old boy and need the use of BOTH hands at any given moment, but also need to carry around your favorite lizard.  What's a boy to do, you say? How about the HAMMOCK-HAT?!?  That's right, when your mom isn't looking, find her unmentionables, gently sling your lizard in one of the compartments & place the other convenient compartment on your head.  I think it is going to catch on like those stupid feathers all the girls have in their hair.  I await your prompt and favorable response.  Thank you.
Future Inventor,
Brennan

The Whale Tail

In a narrow aisle in Party City, a very unsuspecting woman shopping for Bat Man wrapping paper, made the mistake of bending over RIGHT IN FRONT of me to expose her "whale tail".  I OF COURSE had to snap it, slap her exposed upper-ass-crack & yell "BUM, BUM, BUM!"
Ladies, let me stress these two very important life lessons...
1 - If you don't want the advances, cover it up!
And,
2 - Ultra low-rise jeans & thongs became inappropriate in your 30's and just sad in your 40's.

Dr. Mom's RX

Hey, Mom...
When the Doctor recommended putting "lots of ice" on your potentially broken thumb, I don't think he meant in your vodka.

Taming the Wild Beast

I tamed the wild beast at "August in Ada".  I rode my first camel & showed him a thing or two about spitting.  His head & neck were saturated with my spittle & there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.  I am the Animal Master!

Being A Dog

I have a confession...
I like to pretend to be a dog...normal, right?  My sisters like to help me pretend to be a dog.  For example, today they helped me out by creating "ears" so I looked more canine.  They were perfect...sticky on the back & soft on the front, cut in an oval, and just stiff enough to stand up straight.  Not to mention they had a "powder fresh" scent to them.  My sisters must really love me.

PS - Dear Parent at the library who judges my mom for letting me pretend to be a dog...I like being a dog!  I like playing fetch, drinking with my tongue from a bowl on the floor & peeing outside (especially peeing outside).  My mom says that pretend play is an appropriate developmental stage that helps foster creativity, empathy & expressing appropriate emotions.  So before you judge, know that she's screwing me up in plenty of other ways that me pretending to be a dog should be the least of your worries.

My Lizard

This is my lizard.  There are so many wonderful things about my lizard.  He is soft & rubbery, so he bends in anyway I choose, rendering him almost indestructible.  He is very elastic, so I can hold his tail while swinging him and reach objects almost 4 feet away from me (including my Mom's coffee cup she "puts in the middle of the counter to keep it safe").  I take my lizard everywhere and sleep with him every night.  Read on to find out what else I like to do with my lizard...

This is just one of the many functions I have found for my lizard.  He fits perfectly in the "car holes" of my Dad's car.  Guess what else fits in the "car holes"?... 2 pink tennis balls, the start of a jump rope, 6 matchbox cars & a bottle of bubbles. Virtually anything you want to cram into a small space can find it's way into this fantastic hiding place.  You should try it too, just don't get caught.  I am the only one who finds this at all amusing.

Elevators

Did you know that you can summon the EGR Police AND Fire Dept with the push of just one button? I KNOW, AWESOME! After faking-out my Mom with some evasive corner back moves, running onto the elevator & watching the doors close on her face just before she could get there (thereby making her scale two flights of stairs in 3.6 sec flat) I was able to call my new friends.

Now I'm not that familiar with the particular look she had, but it was priceless.

Jacuzzi

Spent the evening with a new lady...that's right, my first babysitter.  I spanked her bum every time I did a "lap" around her & licked her face when she put me to bed.  Do I know what chicks dig or what?  She'll be back, they always come back for more of The B!  I think next time, I will let her give me a bath and she will REALLY be in for a treat...I'm am a HUGE fan of the "toot-bubbles" & what lady doesn't like a little jacuzzi action?

WWE Future Champ

I've finally taken down the biggest with my patented WWE move "Big-But-Clutch".  Now onto the old man who brings home the bacon.  I'll be runnin' this place by mornin' IF YOU SMELL, WHAT "THE B" HAS COOKIN!

Teeth

My 6 year old sister lost a tooth today.  WHAT?!? Your teeth fall out?  What kind of cruel joke is that?  How am I supposed to defend myself?  I will have to look further into this situation...

Hide-&-Go-Seek

I found the best hiding place EVER.  It took my mom 23 minutes to find me.  I could hear her the whole time yelling my name, but don't worry, I didn't say a word.  I got board after a while (23 minutes is a long time to hide in a dryer) and started counting, and that's when she found me.  Her only request was that next time I mention to her that we are playing Hide-&-Go-Seek BEFORE I hide.  Details.

The Cure For Hangovers

Guess who doesn't care if my Mom & Dad stayed out way too late and want to sleep their brain ache off?  THIS GUY!  So I poked them both in the face with my tooth brush until they got out of bed.  I've got things to do & trouble to brew...

Meeting A New Friend

I met a new friend, and possibly a partner in crime (the background checks are still taking place) at the neighborhood park today.  Carson watched as I showed him how to flip head first through he monkey bars.  He was a little reluctant at first, but eventually came around to trying it (your welcome to his Mom).  I taught him it was A-OK to lick all things funny to me (but disgusting to my Mom) like the swing seat, a large rock & an ant.  He thinks I'm pretty cool, although his Mom may need a little more convincing.  Don't worry, I have a way of winning over the ladies.

Basic Human Anatomy

Technically, I didn't LIE when my mom asked if I peed on the door & I said "No". Being the honest gent that I am, however, I did have to come clean and fess up (as well as give her a lesson in basic human anatomy) when I told her that "my penis did".  I'm sure this is the first of many instances where my favorite boy part will either be the cause or the excuse for the trouble I'm in.
PS- Mom, the only "lesson" I learned from cleaning the door is that I like the taste of cleaner.  How ya like them apples?

Morning Coffee

As I watched my Mom shiver standing at the bus stop this morning from inside the warm car, I thought... what could I do to warm her up and make her day just a little happier?  I then noticed the bottle of "Mommy's Drink" in the trunk space.  Being the thoughtful gentleman that I am, I decided to bring it to her, sacrificing my own warmth and comfort.
When she noticed me toddling towards her with an empty fifth of vodka, she quickly tried to explain to the other mothers (from behind the crimson of her cheeks) that it must have been left in there from her golf weekend with my Dad. I personally don't think she was fooling anyone.  We all know how she gets through a day with me, and it's not with rainbows and sunshine.  Fess up "Lushie", we're onto you!

Taking It Easy

Today I decided to take it easy.  When I went in Riley's room to wake her with a kiss (just as I do every morning) I saw IT just sitting there.  So I took the red sharpie & wrote all over her carpet & sheets & then on myself.  While my mom was trying to "Mr. Clean" that mess, I rolled the empty wine glass that was sitting on my Mom's nightstand down the stairs (in my defense, it very much looked like a ball on a stick).  And while she was sweeping the shattered glass off the floor, I stuffed 11 washcloths down the toilet.
All before 8 am.
It's all part of my master plan to have my mom committed by year's end.

Falling Off The Wagon

Well, I fell off the wagon. It's been almost two months...I haven't even thought about it...and then I saw her.  Those plump, juicy arms were just screaming my name.  Mom Mom looked sadder than the cutie I bit.  It's back to "biters anonymous" for me.  Sorry Mommy (and the cute little nugget girl that has become my latest victim).

Metal Ta-Ta's

In the quiet of the peaceful Cascade Library, I calmly climbed upon the bronze "mother reading" sculpture's lap, gently kissed her nose & said "I give kisses".  In true Brennan form, I then screamed 'BOOBIES" and banged on her metal ta-ta's like steel drums.  That never gets old...even on fake ones!

Public Nudity

I think all of those strict laws on public nudity need some tweeking.  For example...when I escape after my bath & run outside in the buff, the reaction (especially from my Mom) should be happy & not mortified.  Can I get a "Hell Ya" from all of my fellow Bros who just need a little air...

The Power of Knuckles

I just left the Grand Rapids Childrens Museum & went to Memorial Park for a snack with my Mom & sister.  Instead of sitting next to them, I parked it next to the nice man who just got out of the "bath" (my mom keeps calling it a "reflection pool", though) who was talking to himself.  He asked me for a dollar, so I gave him my goldfish crackers.  He asked my mom why I wasn't affraid of him, so I gave him knuckles.  I think he likes me.

Dessert

Raise your hand if you recognize the flaw(s) in this negotiation...
(Mom) "You can't have a popsicle until all of the pizza is gone off of your plate."
Aside from the obvious nutritional flaw, my mom didn't see that putting all of my dinner under my plate was an option.  Thanks for dessert.  B=1, Mom=0.

All Gone

It has been sheer joy for me watching my Mom pull clothes out of the washer with more stains on them then when they went it.  But today, unfortunately, she discovered secret to my "all gone" trick...she caught me putting my chewed up food into my hoodie pockets and smashing it down (to make sure it didn't drop out until the intended time, of course).  I'm sure she thought with my husky physique I MUST be eating it all.  I guess the gig's up.  Now to think of something she would enjoy just as much...

Salesmen

How long does it take a "miracle cleaner" salesman's to pitch his crappy product?  Approximately the same length of time it takes me to color my face with green marker & use sparkly purple butterfly stickers as pasties.  Give or take a second or two.  Serves you right for listening to that garbage, Mom.

Gravity

I wonder why God created gravity if he didn't want me to spit in the air and try to catch it in my mouth?  Or why He created windows if he didn't want them licked?  Or how about door handles (not knobs, I haven't mastered them yet) if I wasn't supposed to use them to escape.  I think I'm the funniest thing in the world when I accomplish any or all of the above...my mom, not so much.

Happy Fathers Day

Wished my Daddy-O a "Happy Fathers Day" by crawling up the covers, from the foot of the bed, and giving him "knuckles"...his cries of delight were an indication of how much he enjoyed it.  Funny thing, though, his "knuckles" were a lot softer than I remember.  Oh well.  HAPPY FATHERS DAY TO THE COOLEST WRESTLING PARTNER AND BEST DAD EVER!

Smoking Car

I wonder why it took a 2 year old (me) to point out to a grown-up (my mom) that large plumes of smoke were rising from the hood of her car?  I kept chanting, "'Moke, 'Moke, 'Moke" until she understood.  Isn't that what that "H" gauge on the instrument panel is for? C'mon, Mom.  Next question...why is my Dad rewarding her for her obliviousness with a new car?  Adults are just silly.

Nose Picking

I am a nose picker.  I like it & I don't care if you think it's gross.  I KNOW it's gross, that's why I do it.  Don't like it, quit making such a big deal out of it & more importantly, quit looking.  My mom makes a big deal out of it, so I do it more...so there.  It's my defense mechanism, much like the skunks putrid ass-stink, I repel you with my grossness, then I charm you with my smile & you have no idea how to feel about me.
I'm 2 & that's how I roll.

President of VBS

Today I started VBS in the childcare room and quickly realized I have the necessary leadership skills to rule the world!  The other kids follow me everywhere, I spit wherever I want, I jump on the volunteer helpers at will and can scale the counter tops to distribute snacks to my minions whenever I see fit.  I think I will start my bid for the 2056 Presidential campaign soon (& ruler of the free world not long after that).

Not All Balls Bounce

Today I DISCOVERED two very important lessons...
1- Glass garden gazing balls DON'T  bounce.
2- When my Nanna says "Oh, Brennan" after I DISCOVER something new, she just smiles and hugs me (just like my mom) because new discoveries are how I roll.
I should have said 3 very important lessons...
3- I got these chicks wrapped around my little finger.

Moon Boots

I am wearing green golf club cozies as boots (complete with a 3 & a 5 on the bottom of them) and a "turtle fur" today.  "Why?"...that's what my mom keeps saying.  They are like little moon boots, literally, because I can jump so high with them on it's like I'm on the moon.  Silly questions get silly answers...quit asking a 2 year old "why?".

The Cat-Call

Today I learned the art (and joy) of the cat-call.  Usually "hey-baby" is meant for actual babies, but today discovered it works on blond 20-somethings in tight, low-cut, v-neck t-shirts too.  After "hey, babying" her, she bopped over energetically & gave me some requested knuckles.  She then noticed how cute my chunky cheeks were (naturally) and bent down to squeeze them. Without pause, I yelled "BOOBS, BOOBS, BOOBS!" and slapped at her milk-makers hysterically.  She found that adorable, too.  Come on ladies, it's too easy.

Chivalry

Just when you think all is lost...while walking in the mall I spot a hot little number holding her mom's hand outside Gymboree & make a B-line for her.  Before my mom could reach me, I grasp her hand, get down on one knee and ever to delicately kiss her hand.  Just as my mom gets there (with a puzzled yet concerned look on her face) I gently stroke her cheek and kiss her forehead.  Her mom is in awe of the sweet angel that I am (I call it my A-Game). Not everyone knows the rep I have established at multiple gyms in the area, so I've still got a chance with some of the ladies.

Biting

My sister suggested taking me to "the most magical place on earth and wishing upon a star" that I stop biting so we don't get kicked out of another gym.  As brilliant a marketing sceme as Disney has, I think she will need more than a cricket with a top-hat to break this guy.

Finding Holes

Do you have any idea just how many things I can fit into the multiple holes on my face? A LOT!  I started the morning inserting a green M&M into my nose.  After my mom fished it out, she threw it in the garbage.  That's right, a perfectly good M&M, gone.  She thinks that will "cure" me of this new found fun-time, dream on sister.
I then lodged a soft shell corn tortilla into my eye contact lense-style.
I'll keep her guessing which orifice is next...

The Pool...The Pool Bubbles

I love the pool!  Actually, I love the bubble blowers in the pool.  While standing on the bench, they are perfectly place for maximum satisfaction. If you think I can't stay in one place for too long, put me in front of one of those happy-makers and my grossly satisfied smile will prove you wrong.

Egg Balls

Do you know how long it takes my mom to wash her hands in the bathroom right next to the kitchen?  The same amount of time it takes me to throw 10 eggs across the kitchen & watch them splat on the island...approximately.  I happily handed my mom the 11th egg when she came back and proudly said, "Egg-Balls!" Why would they be shaped like a ball if I wasn't meant to throw them?

The Shower

Today I thought, "what would happen if I opened the shower door while holding the sprayer oozie-style?"  And much to my delight, I discovered that the water reaches all the way across the bathroom.  I filled the garbage can about 2 inches, sprayed out the window & then used the toilet seat cover as a target. My mom was clearly amazed at how wet things could get in only 30 seconds & no doubt thankful that I started her much-needed cleaning process.  I'm sure she will thank me later...

Intro

Welcome to the B-Blog...a summary of life as a 2 year old (told from my perspective) so you can appreciate all of the fun we have (or use it as a form of birth control...your choice).