I'm never far, Chas

Or, why toddlers are a lot like dogs.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I didn't feel like dealing with dinner tonight -- sore throat and bad attitude. Anyway, took the boys to McDonalds to meet Mama and play in the play place. En route, they argued about whether it was, in fact, a big toy or a small toy they would be playing on. (This was a theme today -- arguing. At one point while I was in the kitchen listening to them argue in the playroom I yelled "Stop arguing!" They quit and came running in. "You OK, Mommy?" Eddie inquired. Sigh.

But I digress. Of course, this is my blog so I can bloody well digress if I want to, so stop complaining. While playing there, they decided the play structure was, in Eddie's words, "spooky." Fine, whatever. Then I hear words to melt my heart. Eddie says to his brother, "I never far, Chas. I never far." At once I imagined my boy was both comforting his brother, assuaging his fears (unexpressed to me, of course) and making a statement of profound love and loyalty.

Then I started thinking about it. Let's face it, the boys are pretty good little talkers, but quite a bit of the time I don't know what the hell they're saying. I pondered. What else could he have been saying? Perhaps he was bragging about his sure-footedness. "I never fall, Chas." Hmm. So I asked him to say both of those phrases, "I never far" and "I never fall." The latter came out more like "falled" but in truth, they were close enough that he could have been saying either one. Or something entirely different.

Which is what brings me to why toddlers are like dogs. (Remember that?) With toddlers, as with dogs, we just want so badly to believe that they have and are expressing real and very complex emotions. So much so that we can even imagine having seen evidence. So I "heard" him say he was never far because I want to believe he's capable of such a strong attachment and feeling of protection. Just like I wanted to believe my dogs were looking at me lovingly/excitedly/quizzically. Of course, now the scientists are saying dogs smile, so perhaps I'm full of it and Eddie is capable of such a statement of love an support. But there are other ways toddlers are like dogs. Unless you trai them well, you'll be cleaning up their feces fairly regularly. They can roam the house freely for the most part, but will make a ridiculous mess if left unsupervised too long. As Eddie just now demonstrated in the tub, they will bite. Despite being offered nutritionally sound and adequate food, they both still prefer scraps off of your plate. They'll both follow you around and look at you with love and adoration. If only I could get the boys to play fetch.