patience is a virtue

Arlo has taken an interest in feeding himself. As well as the comedy photo shots it provides, it also gives me practical situations to try out the 'how thin is your patience' test. I don't know if that test exists but if it does, the end part would read:

"Mostly A's: You have absolutely no patience whatsoever. It's just as well you have double glazing so that your child will bounce back into the living room after meal times. Counting to 10 for you is not going to cut it - we suggest counting to 200 in 3 different languages, running up and down your street shouting 'ARRRGHGHGHGHGHGHG' and punching all the stairs 3 times on the way back up to the house to get to the point where perhaps counting to 10 and taking a deep breath will make some form of dent".

With his vice like grip he refuses to let go of the frigging spoon, resulting in ridiculous eyebrows and peas in the dvd baskets. And he knows exactly how to 'play me like a kipper' (an amalgamation of 'play me like a fiddle' and whatever-the-hell the saying is that involves a kipper. I have a tendency to completely botch up almost all sayings, my personal favourite was from 'the proof of the pudding (is in the eating)' where I said 'the evidence is in the pie'. Ah dear, I crack myself up).

So, back to being played like a kipper. It's like he can sense from me how much I really want him to eat his food, and the more I want him to eat it, the more he will just NOT do it. He will eat it for Bry, he will eat it for his Nana and his Granny (though he plays her like a kipper quite a bit too, I fear) but not for me. For me he will grip onto the spoon, squawk at me, give me the deathly-no-blink stare and then, having somehow got the spoon from me hurl it across the floor in a rage before rubbing squidged up bean burger into his eye and blinking lots.

I need to stop worrying so much and enjoying the nonsense - it really is slapstick gold.