Squish!

Baby John just figured out how to wrestle!

He already knew how to be wrestled. He’s pretty good at that. You make growling noises and strike an aggressive (tickle-monster) pose, and he screams, runs, turns around, then runs toward you (because he kind of likes the tickle monster). Then you tickle him, roll over him, and shout, “Squish!”

Well, today, he figured out how to squish Mom! While we were rolling around and tickle-fighting on the bed, he suddenly climbed up and over my belly, swung a leg over, and “pinned” me down. Awesome! So I acted stuck and yelled, “Oh, no! Squished!” and he giggled. Then I returned the favor. “Squish!” More giggles.

This repeated, back and forth, for about 4 or 5 more squishes. Then suddenly, he got all serious. He sat on top of me, no longer pleased with his squish. He sucked his thumb. He cuddled up under my chin. Wow, I thought. Maybe I squished him to sleep. I snuggled up.

He threw up grape juice all over my chin and down my shirt. Squish.

This is a parenting rite of passage, I’m sure. ♦

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