He asked his mom for a cracker, and it was really cute. This was probably the first time I saw him really demonstrate a sense of humor, acting more like a kid than a baby. He was playing on her lap, then he crouched down and looked at her from below, and asked again in a deep monster sort of voice, "Gimme some crackers!"
His mom said, "How do you ask for crackers?", and he cocked his head at her and whispered dramatically, "You say PLEASE!" I volunteered to fetch the crackers from the kitchen.
Here is where everything fell apart.
I found some round crackers, those dry flaky ones you put cheese on. Those were the only crackers available, so I brought one to Will.
When I handed it to him, he reacted as though I was giving him poison or something! He cringed away and started crying, "No no no, I don't want it!"
So I gave it to his mom instead, and sat down to watch. She tried to offer it to him, and he completely broke down. He was crying and squirming and fighting, "No Mommy no, I want a different cracker!"
She tried to reason with him. "These are the only crackers we have. Do you want me to put some peanut butter on it? How about some mac and cheese instead?"
But the poor little guy has been feeling so sick, and of course at only almost-three he doesn't understand what is happening to him. He doesn't know that it's just a cold, and he'll feel better if he rests -- he doesn't know how to take care of himself. He doesn't understand how to clear his nose or throat when it's clogged. He hadn't been willing to take a nap, and he hadn't been wanting to eat much. He just knows everything is miserable, and he had his heart set on a different kind of cracker. In his mind, this was the worst thing possible. "No I don't want it Mommy, not this cracker, no!"
As the meltdown progressed, his tear-streaked face heart-breakingly poingant, he sobbed out that he wanted a graham cracker. His poor mother, nine months and one day pregnant, sighed, "Oh baby, I wish we had some to give you." But they've never had graham crackers in the house, my brother told me later, it just hasn't been something they've bought. It must be something he'd grown to like at day care. (Though you can bet they'll be picking up some next visit to the store!)
Anyway, he was sick and overtired and not listening to reason. Finally they decided to take him for a car ride to try to relax him into sleep, so they headed out the back door. We let ourselves out of the front door, and headed home. All three were planning on joining us for dinner, but only my brother made it. He said that Will had finally taken a nap, and he and his mother were watching videos, taking a bath together, and hopefully going to sleep early. Sounds like that should be good for both of them.
I hope he feels better tomorrow! It's hard seeing him so unhappy.
In other news, nothing much has changed since last night's update. Spent a quiet day, enjoying spending time with the family, enjoying being on vacation. Went skating, went for some walks. Helped my dad install a shelf. Brought Will the wrong cracker. Mom made gingerbread, and lamb for dinner.
Still no new baby.
Still not Christmas.
Still not king.
Current top baby name choices: Mathilda or Phineas. I'm still hoping for a girl (Mathilda means battle-maiden!), but Phineas is a pretty cool name for a boy. Reminds me of A Separate Peace. Of course, with Mathilda we could have Tilly and Willy. But with Phineas, we could have POW and WOW....