A Demon on the Farm

I took Demon Baby to a pumpkin farm. They had animals, too--rabbits, sheep, cows, turkeys.

Demon Baby raided my wallet for quarters to put in the little pellet machines to feed said animals.

Then he stood at the fence, amidst a huge crowd, screaming, "SHEEP! COME HERE SHEEP! COME AND GET IT!!!!!!"

This is Demon Baby on the tractor ride. He made me ride it five times.

Five times on a tractor pull.

A woman can only stand so much excitement.

Then again, I got to see this smile the whole time.

Now I Know . . . He DOES Have a Minion

You know, spend some time around this house and you start to wonder how ONE Demon Baby could possibly make THAT much mess, destroy THAT much. Just today, I noticed the vent covers off the floor heating and A/C vents. I peered down to find six Pokemon cards, one stuffed animal, four pencils, three quarters, nine pennies, a nickel, and a container of applesauce had been shoved down my vents. Just how does he DO it?

So I asked.

"Who put all this stuff down the air vents. By the looks of this applesauce, you've been stockpiling down here for MONTHS!"

"Crapatage."

"What?"

"Crapatage."

"Sabatage?"

"No. My friend. Crapatage. He lives in Crappingham. He's the one who does this stuff. He puts all KINDS of things down the vents. And he likes making messes."

So now I know. It's not Demon Baby. It's his trusty sidekick. Crapatage.

Another Real Conversation

Does marketing work? Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you . . . Exhibit Demon:


"Mom?" Demon Baby comes and stands by my desk chair and taps me on my arm. "I need you to get me something."

"What?"

"Soft cotton."

I look up from my computer. "I beg your pardon?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah what?"

"Soft cotton."

"I don't understand? Is it a toy? I've never heard of this toy? Say it again slowly."

Looking at me like I am an idiot, he pronounces it: "SOOOOOOOOFT COTTTTTTON!"

"Soft cotton?"

"Yeah, soft cotton."

I am completely confused. "I still don't get it. What is it you WANT?"

"It's on a commercial. Soft cotton. I think I need it."

"You mean, like those cotton commericals?"

"Yeah. And because you're my mom and you love me, and you're like the best mom I have--"

"I'm the ONLY mom you have."

"That too. And because you love me, you should really get me the best. Soft cotton."

Walks away.

So there you go, cotton industry. Apparently, your ads work.

Actual Conversation

"How was pre-school today, Demon Baby?"

Silence.

"Hey . . . come on. Did you sing a song? Did the teacher make you do that Baa-Baa-Black Sheep rhyme again? Did you paint? Did you go on the playground?"

Silence.

"How come you won't talk?"

"I will tell you how my day is. But first, you have to spell LEMUR."

"Lemur? Like the animal?"

"Yes. Spell lemur and then I will tell you about my day."

"All right, then. L-E-M-U-R."

Frowns. Walks away.

"I thought you were going to tell me about your day now."

"No. I have to think of a harder word for you."

How to Wreak Havoc: By Demon Baby

1. Get naked.

2. Wait till mom is in the shower.

3. Get the OJ out of the fridge.

4. Get a chair.

5. Push chair to sink.

6. Dump OJ down the sink.

7. Start faucet.

8. Get the entire bottle of dishwashing soap.

9. Make bubbles.

10. Dump bubbles on the floor.

11. Get caught in the act and act cute.

12. Mission accomplished.

Halloween

As promised, a post about what Demon Baby wants to be for Halloween.

First, know that I have been trying, for three weeks now, to offer alternative costumes. ANY alternative costume.

Puppy.

Superhero. ANY superhero.

Fireman.

Cat.

Scarecrow.

Something, anything, but his dream costume.

What he wants to be for Halloween, what he will not be swayed from.

Which shows me how utterly eccentric he is.

Is a . . . .

worm.

Not an inchworm, cute and green. But a worm like from my garden.

"Why?"

"They're so darn cute." (Direct quote--I don't make this stuff up, folks.)

"But what do I dress you as? An all-brown . . . blob. You'll look like . . . dung."

"I want to be a worm."

So if you see my child looking like . . . well, crap . . . this Halloween, know it's just a mother trying to fulfill his fondest Halloween wish.

To be a worm.

Vote for Demon Baby

I've decided Demon Baby should run for president. First of all, there is no foreign leader on the face of the planet who wouldn't tremble at the sight of this little guy. The havoc he can wreak with maple syrup alone would send them scurrying. And think? If he can destroy a house with a single roll of toilet paper and a bottle of maple syrup, we can save billions in our defense budget.

Domestic policy? The kid's a natural. As in au naturale. OBVIOUSLY, he must be a libertarian. A free spirit. An advocate for what you do in your own home--such as remain stark naked for three months running (a new world record!) is your own business. A fierce advocate of privacy, he wouldn't tell anyone what to do.

Help for the poor? He has no problem sharing. He'd even willingly donate all his clothes to charity.

In short . . . Demon Baby is your man.

Um . . . Demon.

I'm Demon Baby's mother . . . and I approved this message.

Demon Baby Likes Ice Cream