I Can’t See You/Me!

The Mother of the Gremlin recently dared to venture into the dreaded Lair of the Children. Upon breaching the domain, the Gremlin lept to protect his territory, while the Pickle scrambled for cover to hide himself.

And by ‘scrambled for cover to hide himself’ I mean: stood still and clapped his hands over his eyes. The MOTG gave up trying to pick her way through the minefield of Legos strategically placed at just the right angle so as to inflict the maximum amount of pain possible, and asked the Gremlin what he wanted to eat. The Pickle stood as still as possible, hands covering his eyes.

As the MOTG departed, she heard the Pickle peep out from behind his arms, “whew! I guess she didn’t see me!”


That Thing Daddies and Muties Like

“Okay Pickle what do you want for your treat?”

“I want the things that munties and daddies like!”

“You want what? Something that daddies and monkeys like?”

“Yeah! That thing that makes monkeys and daddies buddies!”

“I don’t know what those are.”

“You know, Momma! You know! Munty buddies!”

“Are you talking about ‘muddy buddies’?

“Of course Momma! And I want dem now.”

Overheard the Pickle Saying…

“Come on! Just come out, I am sitting here waiting for you! If you don’t come out of there, I will put you in time out! Come on, I have been here FOREVER! Just-! Ah, good job!”

I poked my head into his room as I didn’t think he had any friends over, but couldn’t see him. I was still standing there confused when he walked out of the bathroom

“Daddy! I poo’d!”

Physically Impossible To Be Quiet

So a few days ago I was trying to finish up a project I was working on, and foolishly shushed the Pickle. He stopped and did a slow turn to make eye contact.

“I don’t have a quiet switch,” and turned back around to continue banging rocks against the table chest he was sitting at. But just a second laterĀ  came the punishment: he moved into the pooping position and relaxed. For a good 30 seconds there was only the muted sound of a toddler tooting. Feeling much more relieved he did a slow turn again to look at me before talking.

“See, daddy?”

Magnifying Glasses

So the local zoo has a ‘trade-in’ counter where you can bring things like corks, cereal bags, and other items that cannot be recycled in a conventional fashion to them so that they can recycle them. For each different type of recyclable, a different number of points is given. The Gremlin has found that the prizes offered by the recycling programs are right up his alley, and constantly trades in for geodes fossils, and other interesting items.

When we go to trade in these items, the Pickle will walk around the drawers and pick up all the magnifying glasses. He will hoard them so that his brother has to come ask him for one. However, last time, we ran into another family that was turning in recyclables as well. The Pickle was unmoved.

“I using them now.” The mother of the child was not giving up easily.

“But you can’t even hold them all.” The Pickle looked at her, and then decided to find a way – lest the boy put the magnifying glass down and let the Gremlin get it. So he started putting each one into a different pocket. He ended up with four (one in each pocket), but still had an extra. He looked around, the mom went a little closer so that she could hold her hand out, and Pickle went into desperation mode.

He pulled his shirt up with one hand, pulled his diaper forward with the other, and shoved the extra magnifying glass down the front of his diaper.

“See, I using them all!” The mother either didn’t want to fight with a two year-old, or was worried he might actually give her the magnifying glass that was currently rubbing against his junk, and backed off.

“Well, okay then,” and she went to corral her son away from the ‘special’ children with the magnifying glasses. From there, the Pickle went around with his prizes. He would walk up to the shells that were laying out and put the magnifying glass up to it and “look at things.” Unfortunately, he would look at the handle itself, and not through the lens.

“I see things!” He proudly announced. The Gremlin had finished tallying up his submissions and was walking around trying to determine what he wanted, so the zoo staff were also looking around. One of them noticed the Pickle’s proclamations, and decided to engage him.

“Oh, what do you see?” The Pickle, crouched down by a drawer in what we call the “pooping position,” staring at the handle of a magnifying glass, looked up at her.

“Zombies.” The zoo staff took this sighting of the undead in stride and braved the smell enough to move the handle down so that Pickle was looking through the lens.

“Well, you’re supposed to use it like this.” The Pickle jumped up and screamed!

“Oh! I really see things!” And proceeded to waddle around in his load-laden diaper for another ten minutes looking at various things before we were able to convince him to leave.

He Still Needs Alone Time

The Pickle frequently takes advantage of his ever-increasing mobility to climb on the counter to either “assist” us in preparing something, or rummage through the cabinets in search of something that strikes his fancy. He was digging through the bottom shelf when he found – unbeknownst to us – a small pack of Cadbury Mini-Eggs. The Mother of the Pickle, attempting to keep him healthy and happy, started this conversation with him.

“Oh, Pickle, do you want something to eat?”

“Um, yes momma. Yes. I um- I… Hmmm. Momma, I want some-ting…. Umm… Oh! I want some-ting healthy!” The MOTP didn’t pick up on the coincidental timing of the request and was eager to help.

“Oh, that’s so great! What would you like?”

“Mom, I want a sandwich, and apples, and crackers. And cut the peels of the apples!”

“Oh, of course honey!”

“Okay, be careful and take your time. I need lone time before eating. I go play in my room. And cheese momma! In curls!” By this time he was in his room, and the door clicked shut.

The MOTP did take her time, but with the expediency of a mother she had it ready soon. Upon opening the door to inform the Pickle of this, she was greeted with a shriek.

“NO MOMMA. MRFGRFP! NEED MGH-LONE TIME!” and he pushed against the door. Unfortunately, the desperate heaves of a 25-lb child is not much compared to a full grown adult, the the MOTP poked her head around the door to see the Pickle’s face covered in chocolate. He had managed to get the bag open, and was frantically shoving the last few chocolate eggs into his mouth.

I think it’s safe to assume he remembers Cadbury Mini Eggs


Every year the Gremlin’s best friend has a massive Christmas house party. It’s the family event of the season (as long as you don’t get yourself un-invited), and the event is highlighted by a visit from Santa. This year was the Pickle’s second year at the Gremlin’s party, but it seems to have made quite an impression. While he wasn’t too focused on time he spent upstairs playing with his brother’s best friend’s little brother’s (Spaceballs anyone?) toys, he apparently remembers Santa

Not the hour he spent terrified of Santa, hiding behind his mother, his brother, or his brother’s best friend yelling at Santa to stop putting kids on his lap. No, the mind of a Pickle is much more forgiving – especially when the person in question broke into his house to leave him presents he then got to hoard for himself. It’s unfortunate that this is what he remembers because on days like today, when we go to pick the Gremlin up from a playdate it causes a minor problem. And by minor problem we mean he saw the house and screamed “SANTA!”

The Mother of the Pickle was only barely able to catch up with him before he made it onto the property of a complete stranger en route to the ‘Santa House’ which, unfortunately, the Gremlin was playing in the front lawn. Which means the Pickle did not get to go inside. After a quick chat in the yard with the Gremlin’s best-friends’ mother, and the MOTG tried to head back home, unfortunately.

The Pickle threw the biggest tantrum of his life. He remembered that Santa was in the house, but hasn’t really put the rest of it together so he really thought Santa lived in that house. The MOTP escorted the Gremlin out of the yard which upset the Pickle. While he started to follow the Gremlin and his mother, he was very upset that they were leaving, to the point he laid down in the middle of the street and screamed. The MOTP picked him up at this point, which prompted a wave of fidgets and fights and cries to “put [him] down!” Needless to say, as soon as the MOTP did, he would sprint back towards the house screaming, “I WANT TO SEE SANTA!” It took her a good 10 minutes (while I just watched, laughed, and monitored the child who happened to be behaving at this point) until he calmed down. In the car on the way to ‘Dino Days’ the Pickle finally calmed down enough to talk again.

“So, brudder, did Santa give you presents?”