Yesterday while I was talking with my mother on the phone we got to talking about #2 Say-This son, aka Buddha Boy. Was he, my mother asked, still a voracious eater? Fortunately for all of us, he is not. [Please note that I do not intend any disrespect by using the term "Buddha Boy." We first called our son this when he was an infant because of his resemblance to the Buddha. Now we use it because of his spiritual approach to life.]
I say “fortunately” because if he had continued chowing down at his former rate, we’d be broke and he’d be the only 9-year-old sumo wrestler on the circuit.
From the very start, Buddha Boy was something like a human vacuum. This was a mixed blessing while we were a nursing team, since #1 son had been a somewhat lackadaisical nurser. Buddha Boy was about as efficient as a sump pump.
Once Buddha Boy moved on to solid food, there was no stopping him. On that memorable evening when we introduced Buddha Boy to meatballs, the Say-This spouse and I were quickly in a panic: “Cut them faster. He’s done … Hurry up!”
When Buddha Boy was a bit older, he took to foraging for himself. Here are just a few of his adventures (please note that each one ended with him in our bedroom, waking up the Say-This spouse and me):
There was the time when he appeared on our bed with a slice of pizza in each hand. The dogs, naturally, were on the bed, too. They’ve always loved that boy.
On another morning we were awakened to the overwhelming smell of peanut butter, the gentle jostling of a small child crawling up into bed with us, followed by the heart-stopping shaking of the bed as the dogs – ever the faithful sidekicks – launched themselves onto the bed.
There was also an incident that involved hot dogs and regular, furry dogs … all on our bed.
One morning we were awakened when Buddha Boy started shrieking on the floor next to my side of the bed. After scraping myself off the ceiling, I saw that he%