Nice

Well gang. It happened. The Terrible Twos have descended on us like the Huns. Diana called me yesterday and said they had to leave the grocery store because Eli was having a massive fit. While my poor wife was trying not to look like a parental cliché, an Asian woman approached. Di thought she was going to have to listen to a broken-English admonishment about our wriggly disturbance of the peace.

“How old he?” she said.

“Almost 2,” Di answered while attempting to prevent Eli from destroying the dairy section.

“It terrible! So bad!” The Asian lady pointed at her own cute, tiny monster. “I can’t control.” At least Di had company.

But I’d like to take you to a time before The Terrible Twos. Wednesday. I arrived home from work right before Eli went to bed. After getting my usual greatest welcome ever from Grover and Eli, Pam started to put her coat on.

I said, “Go hug aunty Pam.” Eli toddled over and gave her a hug.

He then walked over and started shoving me towards Pam. “Hug! Hug! Hug!”

“I believe hugging the sitter is what got Brad Pitt in trouble, son,” I said. I suggested he give her another hug himself. He walked over and hugged Pam again. She hugged him back.

Mid hug he said, “Nice.”

But it was the most hilarious “nice” ever. It was very cute, but also kind of creepily drawn out like, “Niiiiice.”

I believe my son has a crush. But unfortunately I don’t think it will work out. If they get married Pam will be my ex-sister-in-law-daughter-in-law.

Yeah, he better stick to smooching his stuffed animals.

p.s. Today’s photo is the sum total of our potty training results