1. Sleep deprivation:
He likes to fall asleep before I do and then the very second I’m about to fall asleep, he likes to poke at me and demand chocolate milk, and that I turn the tv on. If I don’t comply with his demands, he continues until I finally turn on cartoons and go to the kitchen and prepare his beverage.
Often times he will then wake up very early for a repeat torture session.
2. Water torture:
A. Waterboarding – I’m bathing in the tub and I decide to lay back for a short and blissful moment to get my hair wet. I close my eyes, lulled by a false sense of security, and begin to take a deep breath of my aromatic bath bombs…WHOOSH! An entire hair-rinsing container of water has just been poured directly on my face. I’m drowning. He’s laughing hysterically. “Calgon take me away”…please.
B. Chinese water torture – He really enjoys seeing my reaction as he plays the game of pouring ice-cold faucet water on me whilst in the tub. Again, my tiny masochist delights in my suffering and giggles maniacally. I believe the Germans call this “schadenfreude”.
3. Sound torture:
How many times can I hear the Baby Shark song without spilling all of my secrets? Do you want money? Fruit snacks? The keys to my car?!?! Just please don’t make me listen to Daddy Finger anymore! Have mercy.
4. Sensory overload torture:
Ever been to one of those indoor play places? So. Many. Kids.
Kids running and screaming and putting their germy little booger hands on everything. Kids climbing up into the toys, only to decide that they are too scared to go down the slide or find their way back down the stairs, so your giant adult body must squeeze through spaces made for tiny people who don’t have bum knees and bad backs in order to rescue them.
Then there’s watching helplessly as 10 elementary-aged children jump violently inside the trampoline enclosure while pint-sized toddlers try to join in… It is enough to almost make my brain explode.
Despite all of these skilled methods of torment my wee captor inflicts on me, I seem to have developed a sort of Stockholm Syndrome.
I do love his hugs and his kisses and his sweet snuggles when he’s sleepy.
Eventually, I think he will decide that driving me to the brink of insanity is inhumane. It’s smooth sailing after the Terrible Twos, right?
And if not, I definitely have some embarrassing pictures and stories about him that I can use as leverage when he’s older.