He Finds a Button and He Keeps On Pushing It

I mean that both figuratively and literally.

My son was talking to my mother-in-law on the phone today and told her how his sister bumped her mouth last week and cut the inside of her lip. The injury was minor, and so we hadn't seen the need to mention it to my husband's mother, who tends to worry about these things.

So as my son relayed the story for the third or fourth time, my husband and I were cringing, waiting for the aftermath. Soon my son got the order to give the phone to his daddy, who then had to answer several questions about the incident to reassure his mother.

Then my son asked to talk to his grandma again. This time, he totally made up two stories, one about his sister standing up in a chair and falling out on her neck, and another about her falling off the fireplace. He did it just for the reaction. That little stinker. It took my husband five minutes to convince his mother that neither incident really happened. I have to give the kid credit -- he found his grandma's button and learned quickly how to make her freak out.

And speaking of pushing buttons, my son is still, at 10:30 P.M. pushing the button on his little battery-operated singing pig. He started sleeping with it a few nights ago, and it has already needed a battery change. It sings "My Girl," which my son calls "Sunshine Cloudy Day." We've been hearing sunshine cloudy day off and on for the last two hours. Every time he wakes up in the night, he cries out, "I can't find my piggy!" And then he finds it and yells, "I can't find the button on my piggy!" And then he finds and we hear sunshine cloudy day yet again.

Quite frankly, I think the song should have been altered. The pig should be singing "My Curl" in reference to his tail. You know, which curls. Because maybe that would be a little funnier at 2 A.M.