Don't Bite Your Friends

Recently, while at a friend's house, the kids were watching Yo Gabba Gabba. Can we talk about this show? Clearly the creators were on some very special, very illegal medications while coming up with this stuff. I never did LSD, but it's what I'd imagine an LSD trip would be like.

First we have the guy in the furry orange outfit. Is he a bandleader? A conductor? The exotic uncle you hope doesn't come to the family reunion?

And then there's the giant dancing sex toy. You can't tell me the adults on the show didn't look at that thing and say "Hm... phallic shape, little bumps.... yeah let's put it on and see if the parents giggle."

But the thing that really amused me was the song they were singing; the chorus of which was "Don't bite your friends." I mean, don't get me wrong... I don't want my kids biting anyone. But doesn't this seem like an odd thing to write a song about? What's next, "Don't play with your poop"? Although as the mom of a 2-year-old who's currently obsessed with all things potty, this might be a good idea.

I think they need to make more Captain Obvious songs for adults. "Don't flick off another driver when you did the bad thing" would be a good one. "Muffin Tops and Camel Toes are not attractive" would be another interesting song. Or "Don't complain about your weight while eating a gallon of ice cream." Hmm. This could be fun.

What's the magic word?

Just like I did with Bean, I work hard to teach Squish sign language and communication skills. I also try to teach her to have some manners. While Bean picked up on signing quickly, Squish wants nothing to do with it. She learned "milk" quickly, because she knew it would instantly result in food entering her stomach. We've tried teaching her to sign "more" or "please," but it's falling on (pardon the terrible pun) deaf ears. She would much rather shriek like a teradactyl being dismembered with a spoon.

Now Squish loves her food. The girl can pack it away like a truck driver who's been on a starvation diet for the last month or so. She has literally out-eaten me on some days, and I'm no light-weight. She has a much more limited vocabulary than Bean did at this age, but the few words she does say are adorable. No, I'm not biased. Even the mailman will concur. So we've tried adding "please" and "more" to her vocabulary. She's not interested... even when there's food involved.

In my Imperfect Mama day-mares, I imagine her as an adult, demanding more food in a restaurant with an ear-piercing shriek.

A couple of weeks ago, I came home with some Italian beefs from our favorite beef restaurant. If you're unfortunate enough to live in a city without Italian beefs, I pity you. As the delicious smells wafted from my paper bag, she toddled over to me with dilated pupils. I hoped for a sweet welcome "Mama!" or something similar. Instead, my darling little cherub grabbed hold of my shorts with both hands, and with the urgency of a dying wish demanded "FEED ME!"

So much for manners.