Little Spaghetti has been able to crawl for a good six weeks now, but it seems like just the past few days he's figured out what crawling means. He used to be content to move himself to whatever he could see that he wanted, but he didn't really get the concept that he could go anywhere he wanted. Now, he's discovered this ability, and his new found independence has come with an unfortunate side effect: temptation.
A few days ago, Little Spaghetti discovered the dog bowl. It may not look like anything special – just a metal frame on the ground that holds a dish of water and a dish of dry food for Spaghetti Dog. But this dog bowl is like a forbidden fruit for the crawling baby.
After several firm “nos,” he understands that he isn't supposed to touch the dog bowl, but that doesn't prevent him from making a beeline to it every time he is set on the ground. He scurries over to the bowls, and then looks up at me like, “Are you going to tell me no this time, too?”
“Don't touch the doggy food,” I reassure him.
So he sits. Shoulders down, looking longingly at the shiny silver bowls. Then he'll start waving his hand around...then rubbing it on the ground...then scootching it closer and closer just a little at a time until just the tip of his pointer finger touches the edge of the bowl. He stares intently at his finger while he does this, sure that if he looks at me, I'll catch him in the act.
“Mommy said 'no,' baby. Don't touch the doggy food.”
No matter what I do, he won't leave the bowls alone. I try taking him elsewhere. He returns. I try distracting him with another toy. He grabs it and crawls in a hurry right back into what I like to call the “circle of temptation-” the four-foot radius around the dog's bowl. And within this radius is where Little Spaghetti prefers to play at all times.
Sometimes he'll sit in the circle of temptation, playing happily with whatever toy he has. But then, it starts. He catches a glimpse of the dog bowls out of the corner of his eye . You can see a glimmer in his eyes just before his little head drops and a forlorn look comes over his face. He looks away, but just can't ignore them.
He doesn't want to want the dog bowls so much. He wants to be a good boy and not do what he knows he's not supposed to. But they're calling him. Like sirens to a sea captain.
And before you know it , he's scooted, inch by inch over to the danger zone again.