I got home last night from a rather soul-sucking day at the office to find my poor wife standing in the middle of our living room, glassy eyed, with a red faced and squirmy Eli. She said, “I wish I drank scotch.” It appears that Eli’s acid medicine wasn’t working and he was more than making up for his calmness of last week.
So I removed the screamer from his mother and took him upstairs. He has this jungle playset thing that is basically a green mat with two arches that play jungle music. There are lots of hanging animals that he likes to look at, especially this little stuffed monkey.
I grabbed the monkey and assumed my monkey voice. “Hey Eli, it’s me. Your friend the monkey. You know what the cool kids do? They act calm for their moms. And they don’t scream and wiggle. You dig?. Calm babies are totally awesome. To the extreme!” For some reason the monkey talks like a 1980’s advertisement.
Eli seemed to agree with the monkey because he calmed down. And with a couple of minor skirmishes he went to sleep.
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