Baby Bribery

Bubba likes to get his way as often as possible. I guess this is probably the case with all babies, but I don’t have many other bubs around me to compare. Naturally it is not always possible for him to have what he wants (or what he thinks he wants) which ends up in tears or tantrums. As time has gone on, Bubba has begun devising ways to see if he can get Daddy and myself to change or minds.

First off, it was “Ta.” Ta for everything, and when we said no, Bubba would follow up with “Ta, ta, ta, ta, ta, ta,” until he ran out of breath. Now he knows please, which actually sounds more like “Psh.” Conversations usually go like this:
“Mum?”
“Yes Bubba?”
“Ta.” (he points at my cup of hot chocolate)
“No, Bubba, sorry, that’s too hot for you. Let it cool down for a bit.”
“Ta, ta, ta.”
“No.”
“Ta, psh psh psh ta.”
“Those are very nice manners, but no. You need to wait.”

He knows the word ‘wait’. He knows what it means and he does not like it. Over time he has become more cunning. He gives out cuddles. He snuggles right in and says “Awwwwwwww” as he cuddles you, because we are silly and we say that to him.

This morning, I had just finished changing his nappy and was adjusting his clothes when he decided to play with my hair. Bubba has always been fascinated with my hair because it is quite long. He plunges his fingers into it and pulls it down over my face. It was tied back before this, but the hair tie is no match for his determination and in less than five seconds I have a bird’s nest. I say no thankyou and I pull my hair out of the way. He laughs and grabs it again. Before I can tell him off, he drags my head forward and gives me a cute little kiss, complete with ‘mwah’ sound. Whilst I stand there all gooey eyed, he quickly covers me with hair again. This time, before I can react, he pulls it away and leans in with another kiss. Then the hair comes back. Then it goes. More kisses.

I’m not going to lie. He won this round – I stood there for a good ten minutes and let him tease my hair until it looked like I’d been to a heavy metal concert. I didn’t really care. The secret weapon  – the smile, the kisses, the soft little “Mum,” followed by a giggle – it was too much. I’m just glad the evil genius wasn’t after a biscuit, or he’d probably have ended up eating the whole box. How can I possibly be immune to this sort of love? I can’t. It is impossible.

Has anything like this ever happened to you? Sharing is caring!

Lots of love,
Mummy Impractical.

 

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