Cracking the Whip

Back in the good old days, before I could really get myself around, there were no rules.  I could do what I wanted when I wanted.  Maybe that had something to do with the fact that I couldn't move.  I was happy to just sit there and stare.  And blink.  And wave my hands occasionally.  I didn't know how bored I was.  Oh was I naive.
Now that I am almost 14 months old, I am my own person.  I have my own thoughts, feelings, and ways of doing things.  I feel more liberated.
With my freedom, however, has come rules.
I used to think that "Rules Stink."  Every time I was really getting into having some fun my mom would come along and say, "No!  No. No. No.  No.  No."  She can be such a party pooper.  She thinks she has so much power just because she waves that finger in my face.  Hmph!  Please.
I kept up this bad attitude for about a week.  I was determined to get my way.  I'm smart.  I'm able.  I've got a brain.  I don't need people thinking for me!  So when mom tried to tell me "no"  I would scream over her.  If she tried picking me up I would simply thrash around and kick and try to bite her.
I know it sounds extreme.  But my very way of life was at stake.  Think of it as a revolution.

Well, mom was just as persistent as me.  And soon I was sick of pounding my head on the floor.  Babies get headaches too.

So!  I've turned a corner.

And, let me tell you, it is a bright sun-shiney street I'm living on now.

Instead of getting all huffy and puffy when mom enforces the rules I've decided to become her right hand man.  I'm the Corporal to her Sergeant. 

For instance:  If I'm not thinking and I accidentally open the toilet lid... you know.... just.... slipped my mind that I wasn't allowed.  Mom starts in with her nos.  And I repeat it right back to her.  Finger wave and all.  "Na.  Na.  Na. Na. Na."  I can even make my eyebrows go down all serious. 

Mom is really proud of me.  Boy do I know how to butter her up.

We have a great time.  *sighs*
The real fun starts when Dad comes home and I get to enforce the rules with him.
If dad tries touching the computer?
I crawl over as fast as I can, stand up, and let him have it.  "NA! NA! NA! NA! NA!"
Same goes for opening the cabinet under the kitchen sink.  Or touching the TV.
Dad's always into things he shouldn't be.
But I feel like I'M the only one coming down on him.
Mom must be sleeping on the job.
It's a good things she has me.

This is me.  Today after lunch.  I got a chocolate chip cookie!
Payday for all my hard work I presume.