Toddlers are egotistical little fuckers, we know that.
At around age 18 months to two years thus commences the “mine” syndrome.
Whereby, everything is “mine”. That is, the toddlers. They all do it. It’s very annoying.
We’ve had some interesting, but not unexpected “mines”.
“Mine gom!” (That would be my Gordon the Tender Engine from Thomas)
“Mine cuggle!” (As much as I would love for you to cuddle mummy, at this moment in time I am cuddling her and wish not to share)
“Mine eat!” (Yes, I’m aware that is your toast, but I think your arse is too fat and wish to relieve you of the added calories you are putting into your body and will take that piece of toast from you, thank you very much)
Totally get it. I understand. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.
I did think it went a little too far this evening, however, when we served up the ice-cream and he came racing into the kitchen.