20 Sep

Little man is hardcore into stickers these days.  And, any word that sounds at all like sticker quickly results into a full-on tantrum for “steeeek -errrr!” For instance, last week I told him that Mama was being a “stickler for the rules” and then had to endure five minutes of begging for his beloved.  Or, the time when I said “the laundry goes in the wicker basket” and he screamed “steeeekeerrrrr biscuit” and then ran to closet where he knows I keep a few emergency steeeekers.

And, of course, you can’t just have one sticker.  He must always receive at least three.  And, all three must be immediately placed in straight, horizontal a line on his shirt where they will remain until he sits down (either in car seat or on the floor) and promptly moves them to their final resting place, his legs.

For example, the strange, clearly been handled a little too much and losing its stickiness, pizza sticker that he received when we checked out at the grocery store:

Or the following morning’s double dip of weird dog stickers that I received free in the mail and offered him as a “real treat.”


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