Spoiled or Sick?

The Beloved says that Jack is getting spoiled. I beg to differ. It's true that every one in the household pays attention to him, and it's also true that for five, soon to be six, hours each week, people come to see him and spend all of their time playing with and paying attention to him. And each of the ladies that come to see The Olders every day also pay attention to him.

If he were getting spoiled I think I'd see a lot of him getting fussy when I put him down to play. I'd see the crinkle face and hear the screams of protest when I take away something he shouldn't have, when the dog walks away from him, when a toy rolls away from him, when a favorite activity stops, when I walk away from him to leave the room, or when I put him in his cradle to sleep. I think if he were getting spoiled, I'd see quite a bit of crankiness unless things are going exactly as he wants them.

Oh. Wait. He is doing all of that stuff!

But he's also been running a low grade fever, the highest being 99.1, and everything that comes near goes right into his mouth. Especially soft things like spitty cloths, fabric toys, his clothing, everyone else's clothing, pillows from the couch, The Middle's discarded socks, chewy things like bottle nipples and pacifiers, any finger he can grab and shove into his mouth before the finger's owner realizes there's a tooth about to pierce their flesh, Princess's tail, purse straps, power cords, shoes, the edge of the carpet, doggy toys, and pretty much any thing else classified as off limits. Nothing is safe from his mouth.

So tonight I stripped him down and popped a frozen strawberry into the new mesh feeder I bought for him and put him in his high chair. I put the feeder into his mouth and he immediately made a monster face and gave a whole body shudder. He didn't like the cold. He banged the mesh bag and the strawberry around on the tray and in general had a ball leaving little pink smears every where as the strawberry softened. I was folding laundry and every few minutes I'd try to entice him into putting the bag back into his mouth. He stopped shuddering but was no happier to chew on it. Once the strawberry was no longer frozen but still cold, he gobbled it all up and started sucking on the bag to get more juice. And he was much happier! Of course, the wet wash cloth I wiped him up with...right into his mouth! He's busily chewing on it as if it were a juicy premium cut of beef and he a starving baby who hasn't eaten in days.

So The Dear Daddy had better stop telling lies about My Baby, or his juicy premium cuts of beef are going to be replaced with a wet wash cloth!