Doggy Goats . . . Eat This!!

Mama here. Pics of Reed eating dirt, as usual, for your enjoyment. I'm going to post Reed's b-day extravaganza (read very small family party) soon. Yes, it was nearly a month ago. Who can keep up? In any case, we thought it time to share some of Reed's most recent feats and fantasies as he's far too humble to boast himself.

As some of your nearest and dearest know, "doggies" are among Reed's favorites -- not favorite animals, per se, but simply favorites, period. Where comes this recent obsession? Who knows. we don't have a dog and don't really plan on getting one. Still, doggies it is. Doggy books, doggy walks (walks looking for doggies, listening for doggies, calling for doggies . . . geez. I'm not even a dog person), the "Dog Whisperer." Whatevs, Reed -- doggies it is. And Ike. Ike's still in the running, too. In fact, Reed woke up screeching last night for "Ikey my kitty" of all things - typically, the babes want the babas, no? Not the grump ass cat.

But I digress. We live right behind a big ranch. And on this ranch, they have some goats, ei ei oh (a refrain I sing quite regularly as Reed hits repeat on his Leapfrog radio version of Old MacDonald). I noticed that all three were standing at the fence the other day and promptly dragged Reed up the hill to see them and feed them (the same green stuff they had already demolished within the confines of their area). Our conversation went a little like this:

Mama: Reed! Look at the goats!

Reed: Doggies.

Mama: No, Reed, they're not dogs. They're goats. Look at their heads. Did you see that one just butt his budy right here? These aren't dogs.

Reed: Doggies.

Mama: Sweetheart, they are NOT doggies. NOT dogs. Goats. Say "goats" for mama.

Reed: Mama, doggies. Mmm. Hot.

Mama: Reed! Look at the goat-doggies! Do you want to feed the goat doggies?

Reed. Unh. Doggies.

That is to say, Reed thinks many animals (wolves, foxes, goats . . . are dogs), just as he thinks many are ducks, a word long ago revealed as a personal favorite. What is it with babies and the word "duck"? I mean, how many babies have enough personal interaction with ducks to merit the fascination? One of our favorite books is "I Love My Daddy Because" . . . he plays with me like animal dadas play with their baby counterparts. Or, "All MalePeople and Animals Bigger Than You Are . . . Are Daddies". Er, right. In any case, we've learned that horned puffins are ducks, that loons are ducks (and I must give Reed credit on this one -- seriously; how many adults know the difference between a duck and a loon? And, isn't it enough for babies to try to learn all the "basic" animal names? I mean, I know we've all got personal context for the, uh, puffin and all, but come ON. Geese, of course, are also ducks, as well as any species of bird.

And, if you ask Reed what the green bean says (or the carrot or beet, on a good day), you'll get the now classic "EEEAAT ME!""" That's right, folks -- "eat me". When I attempted to coax this out of him, Ed warned me that this might not be the, um, best phrase to instill. I disagree -- it's funny as hell.