Thursday, February 08, 2007
Dear Handsome Baby in the Mirror,
I am writing to ask if you could please have a word with your toothy friend Harry, who really seems to look up to you. He seeks you out, Handsome Baby, in the men's section of Banana Republic-- you know, the big mirror by shoes-- in the mirror aisle of Target, even at the grocery store in the window's reflection, and I think he might listen to you.
The thing is, Harry is a biter, and now that he has 2 teeth, biting is starting to threaten his food supply. That's me, by the way.
Biting mommy while he eats is a GAME to him, Handsome Baby, and the only game that seems to be more fun (besides, of course, flinging toys and spoons off his high chair tray and staring pointedly at them until they are magically retreived) is the game mommy inadvertantly plays when she says ow or no.
Please tell Harry that biting ain't cool, okay, Handsome Baby. Maybe even ask him to imagine a world without real milk because seriously, those tiny teeth are sharp. He admires you, mirror image baby. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.
The Amazing (Almost) Nippeless Woman