At first it looked as though he was giving me a kiss. Arms wrapped tightly around my legs as he cooed “Mammy. MAMeee.” Before I could react, I felt a million sharp teeth sink into my leg and clamp on, head waving for extra pull.
“Jesus CHRIST. Get off! GET OFF!!!!” I started waving my leg about to try to dislodge him from his deathgrip. No dice. Hysterical now, I start pleading. “Come on baby, let go. It’s not nice. NOT NICE. Please. Just. Stop. Biting. Me.”
Oh dear God. My son is a biter.
The psychological impact this attack had on me was manifold. I started questioning my parenting technique, my (lack of ) discipline, my over-reliance on Peppa Pig as a tool of bribery.
But, when I consulted the Google Oracle, it seems that I am not alone. It’s what two year olds do, apparently.
While it doesn’t make things better, it makes me FEEL better that my kid isn’t a tiny delinquent. Is that wrong?
Also, between you and me: after crying over the bloody wound on my leg, I did pause to admire how straight his teethmarks were. Proud. Very proud.