make me the usual, mommy

I didn't need any more proof that my son has a serious oral fixation. From literally the moment of birth, where the nurse informed me that he had "the strongest sucking reflex I've ever seen," the kid has spent his life putting things in his mouth, and considers the day wasted if he hasn't licked something horrible and repulsive (the latest: the underside of the ticket counter at the State Fair). He's remained remarkably healthy his whole life, praise God, which makes me wonder if he's bolstered his immune system by taste-testing the world.

It was always embarrassing picking him up from the nursery at church, where I saw a sinkful of toys each time, all of which had been liberally slathered with A's drool. The nursery worker would ask me, "Does he usually put a lot of stuff in his mouth?"

"No," I'd say, covering up the drool-stains on my shirt. "How strange."

Now A has almost learned to control himself, with only one or two lapses a month that leave me screaming, "What the HELL are you thinking???? Don't you know there's POOP on that and GERMS and oh my GODIcan'tBELIEVEyoulickedthat!!!"

He has transferred his licking tendencies to a more vicarious medium: the creation of playdoh sculptures that can lick, bite, and most important, swallow defenseless victims. Jonah's whale, the whale and Bruce from Finding Nemo, and Jaws are very popular characters; they're all mouth, with a teensy tail at the end to show they're not sideways pinch pots. Jaws always has a "thin" that sticks up out of the water and "du-duh, du-duh HE'SCOMINGTOEATDAFIIIIISH!"

A has taken these sculptures a step further, adding loads of pointy teeth, tongues with "tasties," and to crown all, dangling "usuals." (i.e. uvulas, the fleshy things that hang down in the back of your throat. I was going to put in a picture, but they were all quite disgusting.)

"Make a usual, Mommy please?" he says, "so dey can hang on to da tasties and get chomped up in da whale's froat!"

He makes it sound like I'm some sort of dough bartender, looking up from the taps to see him coming in. "The usual," he says, and I slap it down on the counter, a squishy all-mouth whale, complete with a few thins and a taste-bud studded tongue.

At least it keeps him from licking the toilet. For now.