One of our issues in Toddlerville right now is Boss's incessant desire to use Stinker's head as a shelf. Whether it's his hand, foot or toy of some sort, that's where Boss wants it--on the smooth, pumpkin-colored top of his unsuspecting little brother.
Sometimes the object--often something small with wheels--is tossed at Stinker's noggin from a few feet away. But it may also be dropped from above or smashed on the head with (only, she says) moderate force. On rare occasions, it may even arrive via a short, bumpy ride up an arm.
Usually, Stinker is pretty good about this invasion, like a lazy cat withstanding a slight tug on the tail. He merely looks at me or Hubbo with a halfhearted smile that seems to say, “You see what's going on here, right? And you'll be intervening any moment then?”
Balls of all sizes, Thomas the Tank Engine and his myriad cohorts, race cars, books, a half-chewed bite of bagel--they're all game for Stinker's ledge. It's as if Boss decreed the head his portable side table, and he's practicing future moves such as putting his mug down or slamming an ant with a paperback.
While “Please get OFF your brother's head” has become as common an utterance in this house as “I'm exhausted and in desperate need of caffeine,” it does no good. Time-outs help, but one every 30 minutes seems a tad extreme, as do helmets and individual playpens. Physical removal of Stinker from Boss's presence is about the only thing that truly works since he hasn't mastered crawling and can't escape on his own. Distraction is second best, but if it involves an inanimate object that's smaller than, say, a football, take a quick guess as to where it will be … siiiiiggghhhh … HEADed!
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