Hail has asked me constantly if Flash can have apple juice, candy, crackers.... well, anything he's eating at the moment, Hail wants to know if Flash can try it. I'm always explaining that NO, he's too little and can only drink "baby milk" for now. Just moments into our Thanksgiving lunch, as I was inhaling all the delicious food (with Flash in my arms), Hail who was seated next to me began clapping and squealing, "See he can! HE CAN EAT! YAY BABY! See, Momma, HE CAN!!!" I looked down to find Flash with mashed potatoes oozing from the corners of his mouth and Hail's finger dripping with mashed potatoes. "See! You said he can't eat food! He CAN!"
Besides trying to sneak table food into Flash, Hail also enjoys making Flash meow like a kitten. This can only be achieved when Flash is sleeping soundly, with a passie in his mouth. Hail will sneak over and pinch his nose shut. Once Flash realizes he can't breathe, he will drop the passie and make a quiet "meow" sound, as he inhales. Poor, poor child. He lives on our kitchen table, buckled in his bouncy seat for his protection. And sometimes even this form of security is breached.
During the night, I was rubbing the back of Flash's head, trying to get him back to sleep when I felt a rough patch of skin on his scalp. I assumed his head was now peeling, since he's been as scaly as a snake, shedding its skin in the spring, and decided it wasn't worth turning on any lights and chancing waking him back up. This morning I discovered that it was no skin at all... only a dried patch of chili fingerprints from dinner last night. You could actually see three small fingerprints made of tomato paste and pepper. Oh, dear me.