Dancing On The Remains...
Jul. 3rd, 2002 10:16 pmJet, three times today, took something from John or I, ate about a third of it and then crumbled up the rest and danced on the remains. One was a slice of bread, the other was a bag of Cheerios from the box, and the third was a handful of popcorn.
After dancing on the remains, he toddled over to the Dust Buster, pulled on it until we took it off the wall, and then he used it to pretty much clean up the whole mess. He simply seems to regard it as part of making the mess... which is a pretty good association.
Perhaps this is the other edge to 'not crying over spilt milk'. Sometimes it is just fun to spill things and well worth the work of cleaning them up. Maybe I should learn that from him.
The frustrating thing was that today, for the first time in a long time, Jet completely refused to take a nap. Even after four hours at the Goodell's. I was totally frustrated in any attempt to work in the afternoon, because he really wanted my attention because he was unhappy, tired, and cranky; but whenever I tried any of five different tactics to get him to go to sleep, he just forcibly kept his eyes open, or popped them open every time I tried to put him down. So I got no work done until John came home. Growl.
Well, Jet now knows how to growl.
Hee.
After dancing on the remains, he toddled over to the Dust Buster, pulled on it until we took it off the wall, and then he used it to pretty much clean up the whole mess. He simply seems to regard it as part of making the mess... which is a pretty good association.
Perhaps this is the other edge to 'not crying over spilt milk'. Sometimes it is just fun to spill things and well worth the work of cleaning them up. Maybe I should learn that from him.
The frustrating thing was that today, for the first time in a long time, Jet completely refused to take a nap. Even after four hours at the Goodell's. I was totally frustrated in any attempt to work in the afternoon, because he really wanted my attention because he was unhappy, tired, and cranky; but whenever I tried any of five different tactics to get him to go to sleep, he just forcibly kept his eyes open, or popped them open every time I tried to put him down. So I got no work done until John came home. Growl.
Well, Jet now knows how to growl.
Hee.