Two By Nate

Nathan is now speaking a lot. He is, actually, speaking to himself at this very moment. And most of the time he can be understood, if not by the general population, by those of us who live here.

He is also two. I thought he had gone through this stage early, as though the phase went with size 2T PJ's. You know the stage. The one where each time he doesn't get his way he melts down. He no longer wants to do things himself, he wants ME to do it. Not Steve, ME. And whatever you do for him, there's always something a little bit wrong with it.

Tonight we had burgers for dinner. And I asked him if he wanted pickles ON the burger, or on the side. He said the side. I gave him the burger. "No!" he said. "Put it underneath!" It took a few moments to figure it out, moments where Nate emphatically repeated "Underneath!" Then I put the pickles on the burger.

Nate looked at it. "Oh, No!" He said. "Look what you did to my burger!"

I looked at it. It looked like a burger. "What?" I asked. "What did I do?"

Nate pointed at the plate in front of him. "You put salt and pepper on it!"

OH NO! SALT AND PEPPER! DEMON SPICES! And also NO I DID NOT! I swear, I used ready made burger patties and added nothing. But the thought of salt and pepper being visually apparent on the burger bun... well, I laughed out loud.


Also, earlier today I was trying to get Nathan to put on his pants. Instead, he slung them over his arm and held it out on front of him, bent. The expression on his face was serious and thoughtful. He looked to me like a short and serious waiter. But then he looked at me and whispered "I'm a pirate."

Because apparently pirates walk around with their pants slung over their arms?