Vampiric qualities

You know what's so cute I fall down laughing when it happens?

When Jack bites me. And then hits me.

No, really, it's like the new Def Comedy Jam for 2007.

Today, I was having a perfectly nice conversation with my friend on the telephone. It wasn't like I was dragging it out -- she just had a baby and we were discussing breastfeeding. Someone decided he did not want me to be chatting on the phone, so he started to whine. When I went up to him to try and see if that would help, he buried his face in my legs and bit down on the inside of my thigh.

After yelping in pain, I said "just a minute" to my friend and sternly, in a raised voice, said, "YOU DO NOT BITE MOMMY."

He tried to kiss me while I was saying it, and because I was talking and not doing what he wanted me to do, he then planted a hand on my face.

The great part about this behavior is he does it to no one but me. Not Daddy. Not grandparents. Not playmates. Which I should probably thank my lucky stars for.

Oh no, I am the lucky one.

Usually the bite comes on the shoulder as I am picking him up to carry him away from some unsafe activity or trying to redirect a tantrum. But dude. On my thigh? It hurts there.

I am being consistent and redirecting his anger and giving him words for his frustration. But man, this sucks.