Dante and I have turned his anti-nickname policy into a playful game, where when he protests against being called something, I rattle off a list of others, usually ending with, “just a Dante.” This weekend, though, he had a couple of surprises for me:
ME: You’re my little bean.
DANTE: I am not a bean.
ME: Are you a… dude?
DANTE: I am not a dude.
ME: Maybe a pumpkin?
DANTE: I am not a pumpkin.
DANTE: I am not a pie.
ME: Sugar cookie?
ME: [Surprised but pleased] Okay then, sugar cookie! I love you, sugar cookie!
Then, the next afternoon:
DANTE: I think I will have that sugar cookie now.
D’oh! Apparently, he thought I was offering. It was reminiscent of when Marge quizzes Homer to figure out if he’s an alcoholic:
MARGE: [reading from a pamphlet entitled, “Is Your Spouse a Souse?”] Homey, do you ever drink alone?
HOMER: Does the Lord count as a person?
HOMER: Then yes.
MARGE: Do you need a beer to fall asleep?
HOMER: Thank you, that’d be nice.
Also, he’s been moving into a more affectionate phase (possibly prompted by more feelings of insecurity, and that has included more verbal expressions of affection too. So when Laura says, “I love you”, he very carefully answers, “I love you, too.” And then there’s me:
ME: I love you, Dante.
DANTE: I love Mama, too.