Yesterday morning, David was lying on the couch in the den while the boys watched TV. I watched Sacha climb on top of him, as David executed a skillful maneuver to protect his groin. It is a move he has perfected by now, as he has to utilize it often.
"I should have gotten you a cup for Father's Day," I said, to which David replied,"Sacha is just nature's way of saying, 'I am your last child.'"
Snuggling with Sacha is an extreme sport. It starts off nice enough, when he comes into our bed after waking, smelling of sleep and little boy. For a few minutes he lies between us, nuzzling and sighing contentedly.
Foolish parents, we fall for this every time! Isn't this lovely; isn't he delicious? How nice to have this quiet time to transition from sleep to wakefulness!
But soon enough, Sacha gets restless, and what was so sweet a minute ago quickly morphs into something more dangerous.
It begins with a few elbow jabs, at which point we instinctively turn our backs in protection. But now, Sacha's movement has been restricted, so he turns himself 180 degrees, to cleave the space between us, and more effectively use his arms and legs. I have to admire his efficiency as he simultaneously claws one of us while kicking the other. Insulted that we have turned away, he then climbs over one of us — usually David; this is the down-side of being the favored parent! — to make his way back into his arms.
At this point we must assume a defensive fetal crouch to protect ourselves from the blows reining down.
Sacha uses full contact snuggling as the platform for some fairly imaginative play. One recent morning he began to paw at my chest. I swatted him away, but he kept coming back, repeating “Elevator going up!” This was extremely irritating, and I had no idea what he was talking about. I gave David my WTF look, and he explained: buttons.
MY SON WAS USING MY BREASTS TO CALL AN IMAGINARY ELEVATOR. I hope he learns greater finesse before he starts dating, as I don't imagine many women would enjoy his type of foreplay.
Yesterday morning, soon after he had to initiate groin protection, David lay on the couch with his knees bent. Sacha began to use his head as a battering ram, trying to pry David's shins open, all the while saying "I'm a credit card." David and I looked at each other; here was just one more example of the ways in which our youngest is insane. But eventually, understanding began to dawn; Sacha was role playing, and had cast David as the swipe reader.
It does a mother proud; when it comes to loving, Sacha is not only sadistic, but clever! The Marquis de Sade could have learned a few things from his play book.