Only he can get away with it

There's something about babies, huh? Well, your own baby. Today, John M. had his second flu shot and on the way home, he was a little cranky. It's a long ride back from Baton Rouge, with traffic, close to an hour. He was whiney and just generally not a happy camper. My mom had brought him to B.R. to meet me and had packed 3 'noopies' (that's a pacifier to you non-noopie-sayers) and 2 bottles of milk. John's 2 favorite things in the world. I gave him one noopie. Boom, on the floor it went. 1 bottle. Splat, on the floor it went. Second noopie. Whee . . across the car. Intentionally. That 'Uh-OH'! said by John didn't fool me. Second bottle dripped across his forehead and nose. I'm really pretty irritated by this time. Third and final noopie. Last chance for any peace and quiet. I'm saying a silent prayer that this works. I'm really, really annoyed by now. I turn around and he gives me his 'smiling' eyes and his little grin that I can only see the corners of, because the noopie blocks the rest. Those smiling eyes make me light up inside. That little sucker, he could scream and cry the whole way back and that one smile had me. That's not fair. But that's the way it is.