It’s been quite the weekend at the Non Stepford home.
One of the things we must do is put her on a diet. We bought an uber expensive bag of dog food, but a good friend of mine who’s something of an expert on dogs with hip dysplasia, suggested that instead, we feed her some of her regular kibble, mixed with canned pumpkin and green beans. Since she was able to keep her dog, who had *no* hip sockets at all healthy and comfortable for ten years, following her advice seems very wise indeed.
Nobody told Bazinga, however.
She gave me a look of utter disgust, attempted to lick the pumpkin off the green beans, and spat the green beans on the floor, until giving up and walking away.
I actually found myself trying to reason with her, telling her she HAD to eat her veggies, be a good girl. She wasn’t buying it.
Great. A picky eater dog. I’m certain that I’ve entered a new level of Mom Hell.
Then Cubby got involved, and tossed food out of her bowl on the floor, before we could stop him.
Bazinga, equating ‘food tossed by a toddler’ to ‘forbidden food’ rushed over and started gobbling it up. Floor food, floor food, yum yum yum!..until she figured out that it was the same stuff from her bowl. Figure she ate about 2/3 of it.
Apparently that only works if the toddler tosses it though, because the next time she was fed, she turned her short nose up at it again. I offered it to her by the spoonful, no go. I even ‘dropped’ some on the floor. She grunted at me and walked away. *sigh*
Expensive food it is, then. Picky bitch.
Then, Wolf took Boo for a hike. Boo loves hikes with Daddy, even though it usually ends with Wolf having to sling him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes while he kicks and yells. He loves the walks, but not having to come home. He’d much rather stay out and play, thanksverymuch.
Well, on their walk, Boo found a piece of 2×4. He promptly built himself a rudimentary see saw catapult, balancing it on a rock, and putting another rock on the end, before running around to step on the high end.
Fortunately, the rock didn’t get much lift.
And this kid doesn’t even watch Bugs Bunny cartoons.
Wolf tells me he did something similar when he was a kid, knocked himself upside the head with a rock, and was unconscious for about ten minutes. Why do I only hear these things AFTER we’re married and have kids?
Wolf was quite impressed, and mused out loud about how, if Boo is making such things at three years old, what he might be doing as he gets older. Bigger, more elaborate catapults. Longer distances. Flying pumpkins and other assorted produce. “It’ll be cool!” Wolf enthused.
For me, all I could think of is that Boo has a younger sibling to use as either a target, or a projectile. Not exactly comforting thoughts. I can easily picture an older Boo saying, “It’ll be a cool ride! C’mon, get in!”
Safety equipment. I see a whole lot of safety equipment in my future.