Brigid bit me the other day. I have no idea where she got the idea, while we were reading, to lean down and bite my finger, but she did it. And it completely took me by surprise.
And it kind of hurt like hell, too.
(And no, Steve, I did not ‘have my finger too close to her mouth’ when it happened. Besides, this is our child we’re talking about here, not some creepy bird in a cage at the zoo. I don’t care how close my fingers are to her mouth, I’d rather not have to worry about getting bitten around her.)
I stopped reading and took her into the other room for a time-out, which lasted all of about 15 seconds, while telling her that biting was bad and it wasn’t nice to hurt people like that. I’m assuming this is just the next step in toddler aggression, as we’ve seemed to move past the slapping stage already, but I’m not really sure how many more steps I can take. In fact, I think I’m going to start wearing knee-pads and a helmet around her, just in case the next stage involves her throwing herself under your feet while you’re walking down the stairs. That kid…she’s sneaky, and I don’t think I’d put it past her at all.
I’m not sure anybody warned me that this parenting thing was a full contact sport.