I Have a Stalker! Lil' E

 I have a stalker! Everywhere I go, she is following me. When I run up the hill, she is there. When I run down the hill, she's still there. When I go to my room, she follows. When I go to the BATHROOM, she's there. (I can't believe she is still holding over my head the time(s) I unraveled the toilet paper.) I tell her to "go away!" but still she won't respect my words. Even today, I tried to run down the stairs to pet the deer and she was right there, slowing me down.

I hate having a stalker. I have to be careful where ever I am. Luckily, she doesn't take a nap with me so I can finally relax. Well, explore is more accurate. Today I explored right over to my mom's bag and dumped out all the sunflower seeds right on the floor. After that, I dumped out all the diapers. I tossed down all the pillows and jumped all over the room. Unfortunately, stalker woman caught me and made me go back to bed. Daddy made me pick up the sunflower seeds AFTER my nap. So unfair. Did I mention I was two and a half? Much too young to pick up seeds and they didn't even let me use a vacuum cleaner. How fair is that?

On the topic of fair, how fair is it that I'm the only boy here? Don't get me wrong, I love my cousins but they're girls. Girls are so maddening. They get me in trouble. How can they get mad when my stuffed animal pounces on their stuffed animal? How come when they build the tower, I can't knock it down? And why do they scream and cry when I splash them with water?

Girls can be such babies. Crying when I throw dirt at them. Crying because I tackle them. Crying because I hit them with the ball. They need to get some excitement in their lives. Doing hair, reading books and playing dress-up -- what is that? There is grass stew to be made. Mud pies to eat. Mountains to climb. Golf carts to ride. They need to live a little. If only they cared what I liked to do. Oh well, who wants to play with girls anyways?

My mom. The girl. She tells me that if I'm not loving, I'll have no one to play hide and seek or make up crazy animal walks or do gymnastics with me. (You should see my spider move - it's amazing - think spiderman on a horizontal wall.) I suppose my mom has a point. But she is missing me. She is not understanding me, the boy. She is missing that I AM showing love. I don't just throw dirt at anyone. I have to really love you to make you my target.

Same goes with biting. I would NEVER bite a stranger. Eew! Who knows where their skin has been? Yuk. But if I love you -- well, I just may show it with a bite. I don't think my mom will ever get it. I AM a boy. She IS a girl. We are not the same. Obviously.

I have to stick with Papa. He knows what guys do. Take garbage to the dump. Cut the wood. Exercise. Dig in the dirt. Today, he cut wood and I got to stack it. Neatly. In rows. With no messy cousins helping me.

Anyone know the Mommy stalker cure? I need an intervention.

Later,

Lil' e