Short Sighted

You know what’s funny about babies who have just started to walk?

Their short-sighted view of life.

Take Kieran, for example. (You knew that’s where I was going, right?)

He loves breakfast like Charlie Sheen loves crazy. He can out-eat many adults. (I’m looking at you, call-a-cup-of-coffee-breakfast people.) Most mornings, he’ll eat half a big bowl of oatmeal, a whole banana, some yogurt and a few Cheerios.

So you’d think, when Connor and Teyla are eating cereal at the counter, and Corey picks up Kieran to put him in his high chair, he’d be delighted with his future prospects.

But no. He writhes and wails and all-out fumes at the indignities of being controlled in such a fashion. “The high chair! NOOOOO! It’s confining! I can’t move! I can’t move! I can’t MOOOOOVEEEE!”

Of course, as soon as Corey puts some banana chunks on the tray, the mood flips immediately. “I can’t MOOO…. Oh! Wait. Banana? Wonderful. Keep it coming.”

This morning, Corey told me he’d thought of a way to minimize the high chair tantrum.

“I pick him up, take him to the bananas, carry one with him to the high chair and then he goes in easily.”

See?

Short. Sighted.

(I just had to dangle the box of cheddar bunny crackers in front of him to get him to sit down willingly.)

Good thing I’m so mature, I’m never like that. (Says the lady who has to smell the coffee brewing in the morning before she’ll get out of bed.)

Snort.