A reoccurring trend I have happened upon with my son is his ability to turn a negative into a positive or, if you like, wrap a scornful father around his little finger. An apt example springs to mind. Christmas 2006 Euan at 18 months had prematurely reached the terrible two’s. In one of his destructive sorties he discovered a newly positioned and fully decorated Christmas tree. With pathological haste he proceeded to undress our perfectly attired tree. I called out his name at a socially unacceptable decibel. He stopped for a moment but started again with renewed vigour, seeming to remember the “bark worse than the bite” theory he had recently embraced. I tried again but this time I called his name in a low drawn out voice accompanied with my index finger performing the generic ‘come here’ gesture. This was new, I had his attention. He tried to copy me but managed to move all the fingers except the index finger in the correct way. The index finger stood frozen. He laughed at his own inability to imitate me and then focused again on my finger and I could see the cogs turning as he figured out the instruction I was trying to relay. He got it and laughed his odd socks off as he came running and launched himself into my arms. The tree wasn’t interfered with again that night but thereafter he kept approaching it and pausing before he touched it to wait for the initial finger instruction, once received, he would give a cheeky look and feint touching the tree anyway. This was my cue to sound angry and intensify the finger wagging to which he would crumble and come running meekly for a cuddle. Who was pulling whose strings? He got the fingers wrong but I was well and truly wrapped around them nonetheless, fait accompli I would suggest.

Euan & I - 1 year old

Eggs - Euan 14 months

I went to the fridge this morning to get some milk for my son’s breakfast. I took a bit longer than was safe or practical because as I attempted to close the fridge door a hand, followed swiftly by a head and ultimately a tiny body, rounded the door and blocked its path. He looked up and smiled. This bought my 14 month old sparing partner enough time to deflect me from my counter move of physically moving the nimble obstacle himself. He pointed to the eggs and said “Ga”? At this stage of our relationship he already had me trained to recognise this command as “What are those things Dad”? I was like a Rabbit staring at the proverbial! I couldn’t explain verbally what the eggs were! But I needed to start breakfast soon as my departure for work was imminent. He’d communicated quite clearly with me that this was more urgent than sustenance! I was snookered. The only way I could satisfy my own conscience was to show him what they were. I took the eggs out of their former haven and asked my conqueror to follow me. We found a suitable area in the middle of the kitchen floor and sat down. I placed an egg in his outstretched hand. He turned it around again and again and for good measure again. Not a lot to it, he suggested with a disappointed look. Then it happened. His pressure increased and the egg collapsed in on itself. Now, this was something altogether different. The shattered shell was a wondrous work of art. The broken yolk, an astonishing aesthetic infusion and the egg white a delightfully welcoming messiness. After a moment of intense pleasure the resulting pulp lost its hold over him. He stared at me, smiled that smile and asked in a clear and definitive voice “Ga”? So I did my duty and went for another, while pondering how many eggs this quest would take and if brunch was an acceptable time to start work.

Beard - Euan 13 months

I walked into our living room this morning and Euey, contemplating which toe-nail to chew, sat up and looked at me with a confused look. Then he pointed to my face and made a couple of unintelligible sounds, but the tone definitely suggested a question. For a second or two my face probably mirrored his confused look. Then I realised the only thing that was different about my face was that I had trimmed my beard. It wasn’t a drastic change but it was apparently enough to make Euan question my appearance. I will make a mental note to be more careful around Euey from now on as the actions of an adult, can be a touch confusing for a tuned in toddler.

Angry Frowns - Euan 14 months old

I was sitting on the floor with Euey today; we were revisiting an old friend, a book, called ‘Birds of Australia’. As I was pointing out the Frogmouth was actually an Owl, Euey started to tip the water he was drinking onto the floor. Completely out of character I responsibly asked him to stop. He appeared to catch the irony of this and gave me a cheeky grin. Unperturbed, I deflected this frontal attack of my sensibilities by frowning at him. He looked at me curiously. Detecting an atypical win I intensified the frown and believe I even looked a touch angry. His eyes widened and I took what appeared to be an opportunity to cement my looming victory. “Don’t spill the water, please” I demanded. His face slowly changed, but not as I had expected. Now he was frowning and looking a touch angry. We had reached an impasse, the tension intensified, the silence got louder and then without ado it ended. We broke into simultaneous laughter. Then we stopped and started the frowns again followed by the look, of anger that is, and came full circle with the crescendo of laughter. This continued for a long while.
While this pantomime played its course the water had stopped spilling.
An inadvertent success for sure but I’ll claim it anyway, it may be my last for a while.