Day 994 - Angry Andrew

This past weekend, Andrew and Auntie Anne (pretzel maven) had an interesting encounter. We were all at our friend's birthday party, and it was getting close to nap time for the kids. For those of you without kids, getting close to nap time is like getting Nicole Kidman near a botox clinic: something terrible is bound to happen.

I was rounding up everyone when Andrew sprinted off to the backyard. Since I had Emma in my arms, I asked Auntie Anne (pretzel maven) to go get Andrew. After a few minutes, they still didn't come back. So as I began to walk to the backyard, out came Auntie Anne (pretzel maven) carrying a furious Andrew who repeatedly slapped his aunt across her head.

Immediately, I became very concerned because Andrew was whacking his aunt's hair all over the place. I remembered that Auntie Anne (pretzel maven) once had lice as a child, and there was no way in hell that she was going to affect my boy with her dirty scalp. When she told me she no longer had lice, I calmed down and asked her what happened.

When Andrew ran into the backyard, he wanted a cup of water. He tried to get some water out of a water dispenser, but he grabbed his plastic cup so tight that it cracked. Auntie Anne (pretzel maven) took the cup away from him and told him he could not use that cup. Andrew became angry. He found another cup, but this cup was on the ground. Once again, Auntie Anne (pretzel maven) took the cup away and told him the cup was dirty. Andrew became pissed. When the cup was taken away, Andrew bit Auntie Anne's (pretzel maven) finger! That's when she picked Andrew up, and he began to swat away at her allegedly lice-free head.

I've seen our kids have a meltdown before, so that wasn't anything new. But what was new for me was to see Andrew try to explain what happened to anyone who would listen. The first thing he told Lisa when he saw her was, "I bit Auntie Anne!"

And when he video chatted with Crazy Grandma and Lazy Grandpa, he recounted the story with his limited vocabulary:

I wanted wa-wa. Auntie Anne wouldn't give me wa-wa. I cry, cry, cry. I bit her.

It's all quite amusing to me, but I really need to tell Andrew that it's not necessary to emphasize the stuff that puts him in a bad light (i.e. the biting). I learned this from experience when I was telling Lisa what I did one weekend when she was gone:

I really missed you. I started to read letters you wrote to me. I was lonely. So I got a hooker.