The First Sentence

                       P (and BB), experiencing the Mac store, as we wait for our Genius to help us....


If you look closely, BB is in the background of most P pics. If you see a P pic sans pink monster, well, P was playing with Invisible BB that day :) He's here, always.  Whenever P learns anything new, hears anything that excites him or just basically needs to share, he instantly starts talking to BB.  The fluffy friend is showered with gifts, fed (quite regularly), and bandaged and cuddled whenever P gets hurt (BB's fate is so very tied to the kid's ;).  And when the child forgets to bring the doll along on adventures, he either deals with Invisible BB or calls his fave friend up on the "BB Phone," for updates.   He is an integral part of the Little Man's life.  (And yes, people look at me crooked all the time as I suddenly slip into an accented voice that says ridiculous things.  My favorite is when P is a good distance from me, banging on BB.  There I sit, quite contentedly, say, on a rock in the park?  While occasionally, and seemingly pointlessly, screeching, "Ouch!....... OUCH!  Hey now...... Ouch!!!"  Fortunately, I just look like all of the other crazies....)

Yes, its a round relationship :)  The flip side of all of that sharing and caring is the taunting, the teasing, the tearing, the, well, the torturing.  BB has been hammered to boards, flung from all manner of high heights, slammed in doors, starved, bitten repeatedly, stuck with needles, shark's teeth and safety pins.... the list is kinda twisted and endless, actually.   And the kid, he takes great pleasure in the role of both caregiver and hell-maker.

So, his first written sentence didn't surprise me too much.

The kid has taken to writing regularly.  Mostly just random letters.  Words, when he feels inspired.  His name, almost constantly.  Being a perfectionist, he likes to practice his shapes, striving for the perfect "O" or "P."  His chalkboard sees a lot of love, so does his collection of notebooks, but its the doctor's pad in his Haba doctor's kit that sees the most action.  I don't know what it is about those little lined pages in this prescription booklet, but the kid adores writing on them.   And that is where he wrote this today:

BB U R A BOOB.  [Heart] MAMA.

I should back up here.  First, the boob bit.  As in idiot, not breast.  The child would never think of something as precious as breasts as a taunt ;)  The heart bit?  He knows its a sign for "love" and hasn't yet figured out how to spell that one.  Sees no point in it, really, when you can just draw that pretty little shape instead :)  And the comparison bit.  That's been going on for a while now....  He likes to tease BB about how he lines up, in the scope of things.  The monster is hopelessly devoted to the Little Man, and the Little Man, his favorite way to torture the poor pink thing lately, is to tell him that he ranks low on the totem pole.  Specifically, below policemen, robbers and, the bottom of the P barrel, kidnappers.  In fact, this evening, he drew a hierarchy on his chalkboard featuring Mama, Papa, Grams, Grandpapa, Uncle Ian..... a policeman, a robber (with, like, 18 fingers for grabbing stuff), a kidnapper (carrying a kid) and then.... BB.  Of course, the fleece friend fumed and then bawled.  The Little Man cackled with glee.

Should I be worried about this? ;)

But backing up one step further.  The root of this particular evil....  A friend's passionate baby brother frustratedly called P "stupid" last month.  I didn't actually hear the word, but noticed P's behavior change abruptly when his wee friend said something.  The Little Man remained civil towards his buddies, but he started pushing on me, ordering me around, grumping with a capital G.  His buds were heading out right then anyway, so we transitioned to the ground for a snack (I was thinking maybe he was hungry?) and the kid kept at it.  I usually feel so connected to P that I don't have to wonder why he's fuming, so this was odd.  I asked if he felt "off" and would he like a snuggle?

He's getting so big.  He seems all boy and bounce these days.  But the kid just melted into my lap and reminded me of how small he really is.  After a moment of silence, he asked me, "Why did J call me "stupid"?"  He was honestly stumped - he tries so hard, so being summed up as stupid seemed pretty strange.

From that night on, name calling entered his play.   He doesn't do it to friends. He doesn't do it to family.  But he loves to do it to BB.  And, interestingly enough, he never uses the word "stupid."  But "boob" and "poop-head" are regular repeats :)  Other than those, its typically made up nonsense, like, "snotty-snot-snafamahush!" (Um, well, these made up treats he does like to toss at family....)

When P handed BB the folded note today, he could barely contain himself.  When the pink monster read, out loud, the fabulous insult (a name call and a demotion!) the child experienced elation.

Tonight, after torturing BB, placing him below kidnappers and gnats, the child chose a different doll with which to slumber.  And made sure he announced this to BB.  Finally, the monster had had enough. He informed P that he loves him (insert small sob) but would be sleeping with Papa (sob), so Good-Night.

As P brushed his replacement Ugly Doll and listened to his bedtime book, he forgot BB wasn't in the room and tried to talk to him.  A couple of times.  Finally, he had to call BB on the BB phone and invite him back to bed.  He offered the brush to BB, an act of truce, and then set the surrogate softie to the side.

From boob to back-to-bed, the kid couldn't imagine a world without this monster.  As someone once said to me, after watching P play with his fluffy friend, "Talk about experiencing unconditional love."