Do you remember when you were a kid and would want a friend to come over? You would have your mom call their mom and make all the arrangements. Wouldn’t that be rad if we still operated like that?
“Mom? Can you call my Susie’s Mom and ask if she wants to go out dancing at the club tonight?”
Since The Munch still only speaks in Muncheese… I have to organize all her play dates myself. Well, actually, these “play dates” are mostly just me hanging out with my friends who also happen to have babies, and consists primarily of my favorite activity of talking about me. No I am just joking… we are mostly talking shit about you behind your back.
I like to have baby extravaganzas where a few babies come over. My thinking is that all the babies would interact and The Munch would have the best time telling them about her toes, where her nose is, and how the best way to get off the couch is by sliding down on your tummy. But the reality is that babies don’t really play together. They play around each other.
But sometimes one baby will start to engage another and you can see how these future humans will be one day be socializing. Some babies are the aggressors, some like to follow others around, some wait to be pursued and then play hard to get. Sure there is a lot of hitting, drooling, pushing over, and bumping into involved… but my point is, there is an effort.
The Munch on the other hand is such a loner! Every time a baby comes near her she gives them the stink eye and turns her back to them. She is like a lone wolf pacing the perimeter. If I didn’t know better, I would say she thinks she is too good to be hanging out with other babies. Maybe because being around babies is just so drastically different than what it is like to spend the day with me. For instance, yesterday I tried to climb the stairs but got stuck on the first one so cried, I ate a banana too fast so puked it out and then rubbed the vomit in my hair, I found my eyes then found the eyes on my bear then poked the bear’s eyes then poked my own, I put some rocks in my mouth, I poured the dog bowel of water on the floor then slipped and cried, I whispered to myself as I took all the books out of the book shelf, I laughed at a spoon then threw it on the floor then cried that I couldn’t reach it, and then I shat my pants. See the difference? Must be total culture shock for her.
“Ummmm yeah… these are my blueberries…”
The only way to take a picture of all four of the babies was to quarantine them