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.