The Imperfect Specimen

Among Finny’s many fine qualities are his contagious giggle, his ability to notify me when he has pooped by announcing, “Poopie” and then running in the opposite direction, his sweet dance moves, his love of a great, big, long nap, his ability to fill in the end rhyme to every line in the Complete Works of Mother Goose, and his talent for belting out the D, G, K, P, S, V, X, and Z in the alphabet song.

But there is one rather annoying habit he’s picked up that sometimes overshadows all his adorable, loveable cuteness and nearly sends me off a cliff and that is his penchant for dumping various sauces and purees on his head and hurling any food item he no longer has use for off his high chair and all over me, my floor, and the walls.

AAARRRGGGG!!!!

On Monday, I tried serving him an avocado/cream cheese sushi roll, thinking he would like two of his favorite foods rolled into one. He chucked his plate on the floor. I tried offering him pureed peaches, which he also loves. He dumped the bowl on his head. I tried peas and carrots. He ate some and then started chewing them up and dribbling them all over this lap. Then he began flinging them all over the kitchen. At my wit’s end, I shouted an expletive that I won’t repeat here. But he repeated it. Oops.

Exasperated, I wiped up the floor, wiped up his face and hands and removed him from the high chair so that he could play and I could sit down and eat my own dinner after this 20 minute game of “What else are you going to hand me so that I can just throw it back at you?”

All I wanted to do at this point was eat my dinner and watch a little Oprah. Finny, although busy playing, would have nothing of it and promptly stopped what he was doing to run over to the cable box and turn it off. He went back to his trains and busily choo-chooed until I turned the TV on again. He put down the trains and walked over to the cable box and turned it off again. So, I sat and ate and tried to regain my composure and my sense of humor about the whole scene.

Tuesday night, I cooked us a nice meal of Chicken Chow Mein. He loves sweet things; he loves noodles—this Chicken Chow Mein is the perfect combination. I set him up with everything he would need on his high chair, but before I sat down to eat, I realized I had to pee. Could it wait? No, it couldn’t. I knew I was taking a risk, but I left him in his high chair for a quick potty run and from the bathroom, I heard, “Uh-oh.” Uh-oh, which is typically reserved for accidents by most people, is usually used by Finny after he has done something on purpose. Like chuck his plate of Chicken Chow Mein onto the floor.

Kid, you do a great Will Ferrell impression, you follow my every lead when we sing Sound of Music’s “Do Re Me” through the grocery aisles, and you can really cut it up to just about any Ray Charles song that comes your way. But until you either figure out how to keep your food on your tray and off my floor or learn how to operate a mop, I’m afraid “The Perfect Specimen” does not accurately describe you. Title revoked.