Toddlers Anonymous

"Hi, my name is William and I'm a Toddler."

It was while getting him dressed this morning as he cried telling me to go away because I wasn't putting on the right shirt (of course which shirt was the right one was his little secret) and then giggled wanting me to play with his toes that I realized there was very little difference between a toddler and a drunk.

Today was one of those where I felt like I was trapped chaperoning a pint-sized version of Peter O'Toole in My Favorite Year. I even found myself smelling his breath and checking his sippy-cup a couple of times just to make certain his grape juice hadn't fermented.

There was the happy drunk who gave me wet kisses and told me that he loved me. The one who flirted with everyone at ShopRite offering to share his drink with them. This happy fellow was quickly replaced by the angry drunk who insisted that he wasn't who he was nor was I who I am and then cried because I refused to agree with him. By the end of that conversation I wasn't quite sure who I was.

He fell asleep in the car and I smiled thinking all he needed was to sleep it off and he'd be his jolly old self but alas he awoke after ten minutes with drool on his chin and hurling accusations at me that I left his drink at home. Holding up his drink while driving was no match for his toddler logic which insisted that I left his drink home the other day (which I did). He didn't want "that one" (the perfectly good one in my hand) but "that one" (the one I left at home two days ago which doesn't really exist outside of the toddler conception of time and space). This went on for a while before he began singing the theme from "Arthur".

It's 9:30pm, my house looks like the remains of the biggest frat party ever and he's still going- singing songs and ready to put the lamp shade on his head. Help, is there a twelve step program for toddlers?