I came home from school last night at 9:45 and walked into the house to find Derek on the couch and The Boy in his high chair. 

D:  He's hungry. 
K:  At 9:45 p.m.?
D:  He was screaming "MORE, MORE!!" repeatedly.

Of all the words in the world, the kid thinks that "more" means "food."  I can see a short bus in our future.

K:  Are you sure you didn't just get tired of trying to corral him so you locked him in his chair?
D:  I don't know what you are talking about.

OK, so sometimes we put The Boy in his high chair so we can, and this is going to seem SO off the wall, actually get crap done.  The other day we put him in his high chair, cranked up Sesame Street on TIVO, threw some Cheerios in his general direction and then ran up the stairs to get stuff out of the attic.

Where I was not 5 minutes later when I heard the screaming from downstairs of a child who has suffered great injustice at the hands of his parents and is determined to make sure that Child Protective Services can hear him from their office miles away.  Except his wails seemed so much closer.

K:  Did you belt him in?
D:  Yes.  Why?  You don't think he actually got out, do you?

Suddenly Harry Houdini was standing in the bedroom.  Horribly proud of himself.  Dad was very impressed that he managed to not fall on his head when making the great escape.  I was thinking that maybe we should try super glue on the next round. 

But this trip to the high chair was apparently for food.  I know this because I spent the better part of today feeding this kid.  He was like an ant, consuming 6 times his body weight.   Derek called from work to see how our day was going and I gave him an earful.

K:  The kid eats more than a high school linebacker.  For breakfast he had a two-egg omelette, yogurt, a cup of blueberries, a cup of blueberries, cheerios and a half of a peach.  I finally gave up feeding him because I ran out of food.  And it was only 2 hours later when he ate 8 dumplings, more cheerios and an ice cream bar.
D:  Is his diaper rash gone?

Did you know that if you allow your child to eat a pint of blueberries per meal and don't change him the very second he fills his diaper, then you will be contributing to the most horrific diaper rash you have ever seen?  We didn't know this because it has never happened with excessive fruit consumption before.  A pound of strawberries a day?  No problem.  A quart of blackberries for lunch?  Not even a blip on the diaper scene.

So not only will your child have this diaper rash, he will also have an ass that is stained as blue as Violet Beauregarde.  And, being 15 months old, he won't realize that it is the blueberries that tortured him so he will scream "MORE!  MORE!! MORE!" incessantly.  You will hide the blueberries, but he will take a chair from the living room, push it into the kitchen, climb on it, grab the blueberries and bring them to you, all the while wailing "More, more, more, more, more." 

Short bus?  Who am I kidding?  We are so screwed.  This kid is way smarter than us.