When Toast Attacks

Bubba did not sleep well last night. This meant that he was cranky all day and very pleased to lie down for his nap this afternoon. It also meant that when I went in to get him up a bit later, he was still asleep.  I have learnt the hard way that no matter how cute he looks (and there is something irresistably adorable about their innocent, sleeping faces) that I absolutely should not let him keep sleeping. This sounds cruel, but trust me, hearing him laughing and playing at 4am is much worse than cutting his nap short.

Anyway, I stood for a moment or two and made goo goo eyes at his little sleeping face and then I ever so gently leant over and touched his shoulder (he sleeps on his side these days) and said “Bubba, it’s time to wake up now.”

He rolled onto his back immediately, his eyes flying wide open. He looked up at me with a unusual amount of clarity and started to cry. Normally, Bubba takes a long time to wake up but when he does, he is a pretty happy guy. This crying and instant waking was new to me.

“What’s wrong?” I said, reaching down to stroke his cheek.
“Toast!” he yelled, flinging my hand away. Er… toast?
“What?” I said, totally confused. “Toast where?”
“Toast in there!” he yelled, pointing at his change table and crying some more.
“Okay, well there’s no toast now,” I answer, trying not to laugh. Obviously he has had a nightmare, (or daymare?) but it’s kind of funny to have someone yelling toast at the top of their lungs.
“Cuddle,” he said. This is not unusual. Bubba is not a sook but he has learnt that cuddles will get him a lot of things and he is very quick to dish them out to get what he wants. In this case, it was probably to get out of bed and away from the evil toast.

I lean further into the cot to get him, expecting his arms to wrap around my neck in their customary strangle hold. To my surprise, he pushes me away.
“No!” he yells.
“I thought you wanted a cuddle?” I said.
“Fish,” he said. Er… what? Okay, I have a fishtank with some fish in it and he helped me feed them this morning.
“You want the fish,” I said, a little confused.
“Yes. Cuddle fish.”
“What? You want to cuddle the fish?” Now I’m really lost.
“Yes, mummy. Cuddle fish.”
“I… I don’t know how we’re going to manage that Bubba. The fish are all slippery and wet and we can’t take them out of their tank.”

He thought about this for quite some time before allowing me to pick him up and give him a cuddle as a sort of second prize. I sit him on the change table to get dressed and he immediately gets upset again.
“What now?” I ask him.
“Cold,” he complains, trying to put his feet down the neck hole of my jumper.
“Well let’s get dressed and then you will be warm,” this is a fairly normal conversation. He never wants to get dressed.
“No! Toast there!” he yells.
“Toast where?” I’m back in angry toast land and it’s very strange.
“Cake!” he waves his arms as if it’s going to make more sense. “Eggs! Bang, bang! Mix! Cake! Toast! Jam!”

I stare at him, unable to stop the giggling. For Bubba, that’s quite a speech. When I think I’m composed, I say:
“Yes, Bubba. We hit the eggs on the bench and mixed them into a cake, then we ate toast with jam. Can we get dressed now?”
“If you get dressed, you can have some milk. Okay?”
We get dressed without any further issues and retire to the kitchen where warm milk is provided. Thinking it safe, I leave him playing with toys and start doing some dishes.

I turn around to see him with his hands in his pockets… only his pants are around his knees.
“Why did you pull your pants down?” I laugh, going over to pull them back up again. As I bend down to grab the waist band, he says:
“Bottom talking.”
“Okay, well we better change your nappy then.” I can smell it already. It is not nice. Lucky he only had this nappy on for a total of five minutes.
“No, the fish can’t change your nappy, Bubba. Come on.”

I think I’ll be happy to go back to normal tomorrow. If any more toast attacks, we might not make it.

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

Lots of love
Mummy Impractical


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