Chooch is really into stickers lately. He willingly let me slather him up with two sheets of Paas stickers from the egg dying kit, almost as though he was saying, "Thank you, ma’am, may I have anotha?"
That night though, he woke up crying. Henry went in to check on him and found Chooch sitting up and pointing to a rogue sticker that must have been underneath his head on the crib mattress. It bothered him enough to wake him up. Fucking princess and the pea.
Yesterday, as soon as he woke up, he discovered a sheet of Cars stickers, so we had to repeat the process of me sticking his entire torso and head with Lightning McQueen, Sally, and Mater. He put one on my cheek, and since I’m a good sport, I left it there. A few minutes later though, he marched over and ripped it off my face. I had big plans of leaving it on my face all day, even flashing it at work. Maybe it would catch on, and Bob would come in the next day with a Superman sticker on his nose.
My feelings were a little hurt when Chooch robbed me of my fashion statement, especially when he paused to glare at me disgustedly before continuing his rampage on the house.
I won’t lie, I’m a little intimidated of my kid.