He reached a milestone a week or so ago.
No, not the baby. The Middle Child – Godzilla.
The one where he just copied everything his brother said or did.
How quickly they grow and develop! Already he’s reached another one.
Evil mother that I am made them have a bath (something they love doing, so no idea why the drama, other than “because they can” of course!).
I leave them to it as I normally do.
I hear a bloodcurdling scream and launch into one of those guilt trips and wonder “are they still too little to be left unsupervised in the bath?”
I race to the bathroom – not an easy task wtih a baby hanging off my boob – to determine who was torturing whom, and by what means.
(Also taking a mental note to secure all details so I could use same form of torture at a later date and as when necessary.)
I was putting bets on Godzilla being tortured, given the dramatics of the scream, which also probably meant it wasn’t that great a form of torute.
I was right.
“He TOUCHED meeeeeeeee!”
Yup, another developmental milestone to tick off the checklist, and undoubtedly the start of many a torturous days. For me.