the shredder

doesn't little t look so sweet and innocent in these pics of his photo shoot? yeah, i'm having to look at this picture today to remember that i really do love the kid. today i'm not in love with him. i only like him. and even then only a little.
he's been slightly unpleasant to be around. first, he's been sleeping like the devil and that's made him a crankster during the day. also, he really notices when i leave the room. and by notice i mean he turns all red in the face and whines, "eeeerrrrrrrrrwwwwwwwuuuuuuu" until he can see me again.
he's also been eating a lot and having some very unpleasant deposits in his pants.
my revenge is posting this nudy pic of him.
so there.
our sixth plane ride across the country was the most interesting yet. first we were sitting next to a very stiff older man. t2 was in my lap and as the hour de-icing wore on (and on and on) i realized sitting with a 7 mo old in my lap for 5 more hours was going to lead to cold, bloody murder.
so i asked if we could move to a seat that had an empty seat next to it. blessed day, we did. only the cow sharing our aisle was clammy and everytime t2 reached for her (i tried to stop him from grabbing her boob, honestly i did) she pulled away with a very exaggerated motion and made a nasty face. and everytime he made a peep, the littlest peep, she'd act annoyed and make sure i saw her turning her mp3 player up.
i told t2 this was a good lesson - that he'd find out eventually that not everyone loved him, and even though we should feel sorry for those people for being joyless, we'd have to learn to get along with them anyway.
but he insisted on reaching for her and smiling at her and slobbering on her arm rest.
it reminded me of this cat we used to have, bandit. he was black and white and mute. he had a real knack for spotting people who didn't like cats and when he found 'em, he'd do all he could to get close. he'd wind his way around their legs, jump up in their laps, sit at their feet and give his silent, pathetic 'meow.'
anyway, once t2 gave up on cow lady, he just sat and played with me the whole time. but i mean, 5 hours, people. you can only sing so many songs and read so many books before the going gets bored.
and when times get tight (and you're sitting next to a humorless hen), i pull out the big guns. which means i handed over my People magazine and let the little bugger have at it.
this wasn't as annoying as it sounds. he very respectfully tore off one page at a time & crumbled it up, stopping only occasionaly to see what drew barrymore was wearing at the Oscars or get the latest scoop on who's pregnant in hollywood. when he was done, i'd take the page and put it in a bag of trash and he'd get started on the next one.
we shredded the entire magazine and killed an hour and 15 minutes. after that it was time for a nap. and after that, we were home.
easy enough.
p.s.: who's the coward who posted the dust comment and didn't have the guts to leave his (geoff emery) name? it's dry in LA. things get dusty. and also, we're lazy. to older tayloe's much deserved credit, he had this house spankin' clean and bought me welcome home flowers to boot. i love this man.