These last few days, Hatchling has developed a rather painful and annoying habit.While busy at play, he spies his mommy across the room. Laughing maniacally, he hurtles his fat little body towards her, arms thrown wide. Anticipating a hug, or perhaps even a sloppy kiss, Mommy opens her arms wide to catch him. Upon reaching her, however, the little devil raises both of his tiny fists and hits her square in the chest as hard as he can. Or in the face. Or the legs. Pretty much, whatever he can get to, he hits. Then he's gone.
Before I can say "bad," or implement any sort of punishment, he is back to his happy games of make- believe.
You would think that I would be smart enough not to fall for this a second, third, or one- hundred and eighth time. I'm not. When I see that happy, angelic looking face, I simply cannot believe that he has something so diabolical up his sleeve. I can combat him kicking me in the stomach while he is stretched on the changing table, or kneading my legs with his Elmo shoes while he's sitting in the Wal-Mart cart, but this? I seem to be at a loss.
Are all little boys this rough, or am I simply nurturing the next Ultimate Fighting Champion?