The backstory: JT and I play an occasional game, the goal of which is for me to catch and subdue him by tickling him until he screams for mercy. Generally, when we play this game, he puts on the head portion of the cat costume his Grandma made him two years ago. I don't know why he considers this particularly fearsome, but he does. The other morning, as the game commenced, he had trouble snapping on the cat hat and the following conversation ensued:
JT: Will you do the snaps?
Mama: I actually said nothing, just raised my eyebrows as if to question this need.
JT: I know, I know. It's not very scary if I need you to do the snaps. But desperate times call for desperate measures, Mama.
I ask you: who can resist that face? If he knew how charmingly cute I find this game, we'd never stop playing.
I ask you: who can resist that face? If he knew how charmingly cute I find this game, we'd never stop playing.
Dade is way too big for me to chase and/or tickle. Plus, he loses all sense of where his limbs are going as I tickle him, so I end up getting kicked in the boob, face, or guts.
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