Fork you!

Laney decided that she really wanted to ride her bike to the park on Friday morning.  So after Liam's nap that afternoon, we headed off for some playtime.  We came back to the house at 5:30pm, and I began making dinner immediately due to Liam's rumbling tummy.  I put some water on to boil and got out a box of  mini-rotelle wheels for the kids.  Buttered-Parmesan pasta wheels is their all-time favorite meal!  Liam was pacing hungrily around the kitchen after he heard me pour the pasta in the water, wanting it to be done immediately.  Since we had 8 minutes to kill until dinner time, I tried to get him to help me set the table.  We put the placemats out, and I let him carry the butter tub and container of Parmesan cheese to the table.  Next I gave him napkins and kid forks to take over there.  He came back with his fork which has a chubby plastic handle and blunted metal tines on it.  He started pointing at the empty box of pasta on the counter and saying "pasta".  Then he pointed to my cookie jar and correctly said "owl".  Then he pointed to a monkey on his shirt and started making monkey noises, so I made them back.  This made him laugh and we kept it up for a minute or so.  I then squatted down to make more noises with him.  His smile vanished as his brandished his fork and lunged toward me in a classic fencing pose, mouth erupting with menacing growl.  It caught me so off guard that I fell backward onto my butt right in the middle of my kitchen.  Then he raised his fork, pointed to the empty box and screamed "PASTA!!!"     It was as if Liam was telling me to get back to work and make him dinner.  Or as my mom more accurately described it:  "Fork you mom!"

Did my precious little boy really just try to stab me?  Yes, he most certainly did.  And, now I have proof that I have passed on one of my lesser genetic traits:  Hanger {pronounced hang-grrrr}.  I have long suffered from this horrible affliction, an embarassing combo of hunger and anger that causes you to act highly irrationally at the thought of not being fed.  My Hanger reached a new level of viciousness when I was pregnant, but has tapered off since then.  This was the first time that I had seen it occur in Liam.  Only once before did I see Laney exhibit such behavior during an ill-fated trip to a burger restaurant where she sat in our booth yelling "FRIES" at the top of her lungs in the direction of the kitchen until our food was brought to us.  Hanger is not pretty and I am not all that excited by the notion that both of my kids have inherited it.

I guess I will have to watch my back from now on when my kids are circling the kitchen at meal times.  Does anyone know where I can buy a bulletproof apron?