This afternoon, Jo was out, and Vivian and I were enjoying a quick lunch of store-bought broccoli-rice casserole and rotisserie chicken. She was busy practicing missing her mouth with the fork, and I was happily chowing down on my drumstick while throwing bits of chicken breast at her. Then she points her finger in my general direction and starts that low-level noise making that I know will culminate in a ear-shattering whine-scream in a few seconds if I don't correctly decipher what she wants.
I look past me and spot her sippy-cup on the counter. I make a lunge for it and have it in her hands with about 2 seconds off the clock. Whine-scream ratchets up a bit. Wrong choice daddy. I look around. There's a box of puffed teddy bears (no wonder those polar bears are endangered) further down the counter. In about another second, a handful of the teddys are on her plate. The engine revs up to a louder higher sound. Now I am beginning to sweat.
That's when I realize she is pointing to the drumstick in my hand. The chicken piece that I was nicely enjoying, thank you. I toss it at her. She giggles delightedly and catches it midair. I stare wide-eyed. She brings it to her mouth and starts working on it. The meat on the drumstick is gone faster than a bunny in a piranha tank. Then she slows down only slightly to take a measure of the bone. As far as I know, she hasn't run into one ever before. Doesn't deter her. Soon she is happily gnawing away at the ends of the bone.
Hold that call to CPS. Yes - I was very watchful, and took the bone away from Vivian as soon as the soft parts were gone.
Fortunately, the Planet Earth team was passing through and captured this event on film (well - actually cmos). But no worries - it won't be a rare occurrence. Like her daddy, Vivian now knows how much fun it is to chew on bones.
I bet Quinn will say "ewe" when he finds out.
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