I know you suspected that I've not been myself over this past week as I am behaving, out of character and at times, very oddly. You were initially concerned that I might be evoking my right to brandish my license to be a 'terrible two' year old, but I'm certain even you realised (or hoped) something was indicating that it was more than just that.
The first sign of my strange behaviour was when, for a couple of mornings in a row, I demanded that you sit next to me, within centimetres, as I ate my breakfast. This was so I could rest my heavy head on your shoulder. When you slightly adjusted your seating position, I didn't mean to burst out into terror screams and flood my beloved weetbix in tears. I was simply afraid that you were going to leave, force me to eat my breakfast in solitary and make me hold my big head up by myself.
Another sign, which must have been obvious, was that my appetite dramatically reduced and at times I even refused food. Normally, food is my favourite activity and I devour it faster than the cookie monster, so this extreme change must have activated alarm bells everywhere. Anything I did manage to consume, I had to throw my head back, chew loudly with an open mouth, make 'nom nom' sounds and close my eyes.
My strange eating patterns continued at Ollie's swimming lesson today, when I noticed you were horrified that I was eating the smelly sock right off my own foot. It was also clear tonight, that you were completely shocked at my reaction to dinner, which you had lovingly prepared for me. When you presented me with a bowl of pasta, I bet you never predicted that I would suddenly scramble down from my booster seat, run over to the side door and start licking the windows! Before you consider calling in professional help, there is an explanation for all of this. Other indications that things haven't been quite right, have also been witnessed through my rampant emotions this week. I'm sorry I had a melt down when you gave me the wrong coloured towel at bath time and apologise for my relentless, atrocious behaviour when sculpting play dough. I admit I haven't been in complete control and my mental state has been unusually unstable. Anything minor has harnessed the potential to trigger the waterworks and provoke the gratuitous tantrums; Someone turned on a light switch, my storybook was on the couch, the cat looked at me the wrong way, my storybook was on the floor, the dog flicked his tail on my bike, my storybook was in the bookshelf, a fly touched my leg, someone put Buzz Lightyear into my toy bus...
I also developed a few new obsessions this week, such as my love affair with all shoes. Well, I've been captivated by shoes for a long time, but my attraction has evolved and it's imperative that I now put them on myself, regardless of their size or owners, and regardless of how many breakdowns this may cause. Mummy, I also know you've been curious about my recent fascination with the laundry basket but now that I've combined it with my infatuation with tissues and the art of tissue shredding, I realise you've graduated to become a little concerned.
For most of this week, you and I have been unable to explain my frequent outbursts, which are exasperated from nothing in particular. Mummy, I think my bizarre eating habits and other weird behaviour can be explained by the onset of the winter flu which became evident today. My temperamental nose, which is either fully blocked or constantly dribbling, explains my bizarre eating rituals and losing the sense of taste, justifies my urgent need to lick the windows and test this theory. I have also really enjoyed composing the evil little laugh that I have established this week too, however, I now fear this has just been generated by my sore throat. I'm disheartened to think that this wicked snicker, may disappear, over time.
I strongly believe that my rotten behaviour is due to my poor aching head and sore little body. As this is the case, I believe I should be exempt from all the disappointed looks and vibes of frustration that have been sent my way during this past week. Reimbursement, for being incarcerated within the naughty corner is also sought.
Admittedly I do like my new obsessions though and will allow you to acknowledge these as being a crucial part of the 'terrible two' stage. Although I cannot alleviate your fears that I'm not going to take you on a roller coaster ride during my second year, I do know that, once this nasty flu bug has flown away, your adorable little monkey man will return.
Love Linc xoxo
By the way: Not listening to you and doing what I want instead, is simply my rights as a kid and also an integral part of the "terrible twos". (i.e. I will stick my toe in that water, even though you tell me I shouldn't.)
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