This Little Pig

Want to know what my clever and interesting son is up to? He is chock-full of innovative ideas and natural curiosity. (Aside: where the hell did that word come from? Is anything ever chock-empty? Half-chocked? What is chock?)

First up, Paolo is in a licking phase. He'll lean in close and you're thinking, Bring on the super-snuggle and slap down a side of sweet lovin', and he licks you. That's more than a little jarring. Even weirder is he licks his own hands and fingers, especially if he's feeling anxious. Once banned from licking parents and himself, he'll apply the saliva to clothing or furniture. Maybe he's trying to tell me something, like he'd appreciate a lollipop every now and then?

I'm in the middle of an attempt to listen to my entire music collection in alphabetical order. I'm still on letter B, so maybe "middle" isn't the right word. Paolo, opinionated as ever, always lets me know what he thinks of the selection. He prefers "boy songs" to "girl songs," boy songs being those sung by a boy or boys, and inferior girl songs are sung by females who are neglecting their ironing and pie-baking duties, for shame. Obviously I haven't cleansed him of his chauvinistic tendencies, mainly because his PIG FATHER ISN'T HELPING.

Speaking of boys, not being one, I feel I should be relieved of the duty of having to explain why there is a hole in the front of boy underwear. And yet, I found myself in just that position recently. Paolo, wearing only a pair of blue boxer-briefs--and let me tell you there is nothing heart-meltingly cuter in the world--noticed an opening in the front of his drawers and proceeded to explore it. He stuck his arm in up to the elbow, which requires no small amount of flexibility, and asked me what the hole was for. I gave him an accurate explanation, and he just stared at me in disbelief, as if to say, "What do you take me for, some kind of girl? I should have known better than to ask a non-boy." Then he patted me on the head and sent me back to the kitchen.