O Canada?

For a while now, if we've wanted Samson to stop doing something (like crawling along the floor as we're trying to put his clothes on) we've used the old standby: "That's not what big boys do. Babies do that, but you're not a baby. You're a big boy."

However, with the arrival of Jane, I think Samson is starting to rethink the whole "I'm not a baby" stance.

Think about it: She gets held on command, carried everywhere, and never gets in trouble. Ever.

So this morning, as I was trying to get Samson to take his fingers out of his mouth, I said: "Samson, I can't understand what you say when you've got your fingers in your mouth. Big boys don't put their fingers in their mouths. Canadians do that."

He took his fingers right out and asked, with a puzzled look on his face: "Can-ay-dee?"

[Sidenote: I have family in Canada and can report with near certainty that they don't talk with their fingers in their mouths. But since we don't have any Canadians in the house, and since we do have a baby, I figure our neighbors to the north will forgive this slight bending of the truth.]

Of course this could all backfire, and we'll have a toddler walking around our house singing the theme song to Sesame Park and demanding Kraft dinner.