It hardly seems possible that one year ago I was posting pictures of a little slug that looked like this:
And now I post pictures of his Extreme Chunkiness that look like this:
Yesterday, on Easter Sunday, little Chunk turned one year old. I don't recollect ever knowing a happier camper. Chunk toddles around [has been walking since 9 months!] with a perpetual smile on his cheeky little face.
He is so obnoxiously happy that even men like to hold him. As I mentioned in a previous post, I sometimes have to knock men out in order to hold my grandson. My own husband is one of the culprits. A few weeks ago he asked my daughter if we could take Chunk on a road trip with us. Em looked at him strangely and said no. I looked at my husband even more strangely and said, "What the hell were you thinking?" I know what he was thinking---that *I* would be the one to feed, carry and change soiled diapers for His Chunkiness.
I can't blame him though. Little Chunkster is fun to be around. He appears genuinely happy to see each new person who walks into a room and puts up with us always wanting to cuddle his smooshy little body.
Yesterday though, we saw a new side of Chunky Style. He went from happily playing with his cool new toy
to being an inconsolable little tyrant who wanted nothing to do with birthday cake if it meant he had to stop playing with the colorful balls that popped into the air. Birthday cake instead had a nice encounter with the floor, while Chunk tried to get rid of the offending pastry by wiping it on whatever was handy.
Hoo-boy, was he irritated. I think what made him even madder was to see his family standing around laughing at him. Laughing and taking pictures. Laughing and videoing the outburst. Laughing and eating cake before we finally let him down to go play with his new found love.
I think his mother was not too offended that Chunk's piece of her meticulously decorated Mickey Mouse cake ended up on the floor. He really doesn't need the calories.