Hey, who's been reading Machiavelli to the baby?

With Chris away two evenings a week for his LSAT class, Jonathan and I are developing a habit of going out for dinner. He's a fun dinner date - there's always something cheap on the menu for him and he's always happy to split dessert! Last week we went to get noodles and soup at Cville Coffee. Our restaurant choices are largely guided by their kid-friendliness, and Cville Coffee is at the top of the list. They have a large play area, including a giant turtle sculpture and a big toy bin.

Jonathan found the toys more interesting than his soup, which I set aside to cool. So I settled into my rice noodle bowl and watched him play. There was a little boy, perhaps three, who had settled in among the toys. Jonathan picked up a phone and the little boy got up and took it away. His parents came right over to make him share, but Jonathan tends to be pretty mellow in these situations. He drifted over to the turtle and didn't seem too perturbed.

However, I was worried that mellow mood might be dispelled when I noticed the three year-old had found a big fire engine. I knew that once Jonathan saw that, he was going to run right over to play with it, and this time, it wasn't going to go smoothly. The turtle held his interest for a while while I prayed the other kid would drop the engine. However, the ladder flicking back and forth caught Jonathan's eye, and he made a beeline for it and the boy.

He stopped short without grabbing for the engine and just stood there observing the situation. The other boy's parents were saying "Look, that little boy wants to play with you!" but their son didn't seem interested, and I personally thought Jonathan had only one thing in mind, and it wasn't a playdate. I set aside my noodle bowl and got ready to intervene, thinking a full-out rumble was about to start.

Jonathan surprised me and deliberately walked over to the toy box. He got out a stuffed rabbit and offered it to the other boy, who waved it away disdainfully. Jonathan carefully put it down and went back for another toy. This time he found a wooden puzzle and again brought it over. Once again it was rejected. On his third dip into the toy box, he found a squishy ball. The bait worked! The other kid dropped the fire engine and reached for the ball. Fast as a wink, Jonathan had that engine in his arms and beat a hasty retreat to the other side of the turtle with his booty. The kid realized he'd been snookered and threw a temper tantrum, and his parents hauled him out to the car. Jonathan stayed in his corner with his "gin-gin" for another undisturbed ten minutes, and then came over to have some soup.

Random Amusing Bits

Jonathan has proved he's able to remember things that happened a few days ago. He can't stop talking about his visit to "Auntie and Uncle's" house. Liz and Jim graciously hosted us on Saturday afternoon. We went to dim sum and then Jonathan terrorized the cats. Now he points to their picture and cries "Auntie! Onkle!" We asked him what he played with while he was there. Apparently he enjoyed "bogo, play, truck, bee, frog, cat." That would be the Ooga Booga mask, banging on the piano, the two wind-up toys, a Kermit doll, and Moonpie, respectively.

We were worried he might be allergic to the cats (or to Mr. Ooga Booga) because the next morning he was covered in a most impressive set of hives. He didn't seem too terribly bothered, but when we would lift his shirt to check on them, he would tell us "Itchy! Itchy!" They're mostly gone by now, and I suspect it was related to a little virus instead. He's been running a low grade fever and has a runny nose. I do wish Chris had taught him a different way of asking for a tissue. Currently, Jonathan's method is to come up to us, mush his hand over his nose, and announce "Boogers!"

And STAY out!

I called Chris one night last week after a long day of work to let him know I was finally on my way home. He said he'd get the grill heated up, and I warned him I had one errand left to run. My pager went off three times as I walked to the parking garage, but none of the calls required me to turn around and head back in. I visited the post office fifteen minutes before it closed, and drove home.

I walked in and the first thing I noticed was Chris waving at me through the door out on the deck. I smiled and waved back and he waved harder - I thought this was cute, seven years married and he's so happy to see me when I get home. But he didn't come in the door and didn't stop waving at me. I got a little puzzled, especially when I found some raw meat on a platter on the dining room table. Chris pointed to the doorknob and mouthed "Let me in!" I asked him "Where's Jonathan?" when I noticed my poor baby sitting by the door, looking up mournfully at me, tears on his cheeks. I stepped over the gate to the living room and found the key in the lock with the deadbolt engaged.

I let Chris in and he told me the whole story. Right after I had called he unlocked the door to heat up the grill. He got the meat ready and was stepping out to check the temperature when Jonathan pushed the door shut. Months of playing with keys has taught him well, because when he saw the key in the lock he knew to grab it and turn it, very effectively locking Chris out. Poor Chris and poor Jonathan! They spent the next twenty minutes trying to get to each other through the door. Jonathan would drift off and play with his toys for a little, but he would keep returning to his daddy on the other side of the glass. Eventually he was banging on the door with his toys and crying because Chris wouldn't come in. Meanwhile, Chris kept trying to mime "turning the key" to Jonathan, who didn't understand, and watching the minutes tick by on the clock, hoping I hadn't been called back to the hospital. He was planning to give me another ten minutes and then was going to jump twelve feet down off the deck onto concrete. I'm not sure what that was going to accomplish but, as he put it, he couldn't just sit there all night with Jonathan crying like that.

Jonathan gave Chris a very long and silent hug and then seemed okay. He cried a little each time Chris went back out on the deck - key secured in his pocket, of course. We have a new routine for leaving the house with keys, and once again are impressed with our child's ability to do more than we thought possible. Next month I'll find he's turned those toy blank keys into a set that lets him drive the Toyota.