A Tale of Two Mommies

…because more seems excessive…

Damn Spot!

My son is particular, perhaps compulsive at times.  His speech therapist said that wee ones with language/speech delays often are…It’s a control thing.  I’ll accept that rationale with a sigh of relief it isn’t a peculiarity he inherited from his parents, and I can continue to delude myself for the time being that we aren’t nurturing through modeling the least endearing quirks of Sheldon Cooper.

My son absconded my chair at the kitchen table, which not only enlists me to be the sole parent preventing him from launching his body onto the table during dinner, among other annoying behaviors occurring when my son becomes sleepy, but it also enables an awkward conversational format with my husband, as we now sit next to each other at a large square table.  Sure, I could sit across from him, but for whatever reason I don’t…Let awkwardness prevail, I say!

We used to have the chair portion of a travel high chair installed on Mr. Man’s seat to use as a booster when he would no longer sit in his high chair.  That didn’t last long for Mr. Independent.  He soon moved straight to sitting on a chair by his grown-up lonesome.  But, such a transition did not occur before a small bit of carnage occurred to our K-mart table set.  This week my husband switched out the chair Little Man had been using with the aesthetically damaged one.

The damage on the seat is a small discoloration caused by the rubbing of the plastic against the wood; why would Little Man even notice?  But, oh, he noticed…  Just before climbing onto his seat first thing in the morning, he viewed the chair’s oddity, and requested a napkin.  I hand it to him, and he became Lady Macbeth…just as successful too…  Subsequently, he refused to sit on the chair, opting for his original seat location we established for my son when he first began eating solids.

My husband asked why I didn’t change the chairs back to their original status.  I told him I want to look at him again while I’m eating.  But, alas, my son came to terms with the chair’s imperfection, and my husband and I returned to gazing at the woods behind our house with the chance observance of each other in the windows.

 

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