8 March 2012
(Recycled from last year.)
Enzo’s into this lurid National Geographic series called Nature’s Deadliest. It’s about predators and various sorts of poisonous creatures. His favorite parts are the reenactments of when people get bitten or eaten. For the African Rock Python—a snake he already adored—they showed a pretend X-ray to demonstrate how the snake unhinged its jaws and expanded its ribs to make room for a creature bigger than itself. Then for a touch of realism they showed the giant snake all swollen with having just eaten something and two human feet (fake I hope) wiggling out of its mouth.
Enzo was entranced. We keep telling him it’s not real and not to be scared and he keeps insisting that it is real, and he obviously likes it that way. He’s not scared at all, and he’s absolutely on the side of the eater, not the eatee.
Right now our favorite thing to do is he sits on my butt while I pretend to be asleep. I snore loudly and then let fly a series of explosive farts, lifting my butt off the bed higher each time as the farts get louder until he falls off. Teresa started it. One morning she said to Enzo, “Want to know what I listen to all night long?” Then she started snoring loudly and making loud, long fart noises. And now every night at dinner he says, “What do you hear at night, Mama-Teresa?” And she does it again. Then she does Enzo (quieter farts and softer snores) and then Duncan (little farts and loud meows) and then herself (dignified silence).