That's How He Rolls!

Gavin is a kid who knows what he wants and what he doesn't want.

Like tonight - he didn't want the chicken and mashed potatoes we all enjoyed for dinner.
He also didn't want the sandwich I offered as a substitute.
Nor did he want his water cup, apparently, since its contents are now spread across the dining room and kitchen.
And it would appear he also didn't want to sit in his high chair for the duration of dinner. I know this because
1) I am amazingly in tune with my offspring and we can often communicate on a deeper level than most humans, without the need for words of any language
and
2) he screamed and wriggled and twisted and contorted his body for the entire 3 minutes and 27 seconds it took  me to inhale the entire chicken and mashed potatoes dish  I served for dinner.

And then he wrapped his potato-covered little arms around my neck and squeezed the moment I lifted him out. Why does he never *need* a cuddle and some love when he is clean and fresh and, well, pleasant?!

Anyway, as I said, he is a kid who knows what he wants.
And he's a kid who wants cupcakes. He likes cupcakes and will go to extraordinary lengths to secure them.

Including locating said cupcakes in long-neglected locations, left to languish for many a day after the original owner has forgotten their whereabouts. Gavin has a real talent for sourcing such delicacies. (and I'll admit I have an equal talent for pretending to not notice some of the things he is consuming, since they keep him quiet and still for 5 minutes. If we're in public and I happen to catch a "look" - where all the judgement and condemnation for a negligent and useless mother such as myself is packaged up neatly into a single facial expression and a slight shake of the head -I try to grin and mumble something about natural immunisations. At home, I walk the other way and hope that a) the cupcake was one of the green-coloured ones I baked a few days ago which would explain its colour; and b) it buys me an extra minute or two to complete a task or errand.

Gavin found one of his favourite cupcakes tonight. I think it was a blueberry one. Either that, or it had turned purple and  spotty with age. But given it wasn't actually crunching, and is currently spread in small, sticky crumbs across my loungeroom floor and has some kind of moisture within it because it's stuck fast, I'm going to assume it's a fairly fresh one.

The delightful little soul waited until he was showered and dressed in fresh clean pajamas for bedtime. He waited until we'd endured the daily struggle that is brushing his teeth. (because he LIKES toothpaste, but not toothbrushes)
He waited until I was engaged in showering the Banshee (usually known as Boombah but when we refer to him combined with running water, Banshee is much more appropriate!) and then went off to discover his little treatie. He located his prize, had a little nibble and then toddled into my bedroom to show off his "Precious".

And precious it appeared to be. He wandered slowly into my room, and met my gaze slowly before lowering his eyes to his Precious, to ensure my eyes followed his and landed on his prize. Then he looked up again, with a smirk that only a cheeky one year old can fully master, and prepared to lean casually against the door jam and watch "The Show" that occurs nightly when the Banshee and running water actually meet momentarily.

Except he misjudged the location of the door jam. And since he's only new to walking, he then overbalanced. I saw him attempt to shift his weight and correct his stance but knew it was not going to end well at this stage of the evening when tired little boys don't take so well to bumping their heads.
In that split second I decided to detach myself from the Banshee by depositing him into the shower and freeing my arms from his vice-like grip (with the help of some slippery soap if necessary) and then be free to attend to Gavin, who would be sobbing on the floor with a bumped head and a bruised ego by the time I was able to reach.

I sprung into action and in one swift move had the Banshee in the shower, my arms free and was able to rush to the littlest one's side and sooth his screams.

Except he wasn't screaming. Or making any noise at all.
He had indeed misjudged the door jam and leaned against pretty much nothing. And this had certainly over- balanced him and he'd scrambled to regain his position. And his little legs, still new and unstable, had struggled to handle the change in weight and had collapsed as I'd expected.
But instead of falling into a sad little pile in a mess of tears and cupcake crumbs, he'd held onto his Precious. They'd ridden to the ground together, where they'd rolled to one side. Or rather, Gavin had rolled whilst carefully holding his Precious firmly but gently out in front of him so it would feel none of the effects of the impact.

And there he lay,  casually reclined on my bedroom floor and munching on his cupcake without a care in the world, with an expression that said he'd meant to do it like that all along! Just hangin' with his homey ....his Precious!