Definition of a Crumbsnatcher

Definition of a Crumbsnatcher

Officially this week my soon to be nine month old son became a “crumbsnatcher”.

You may have heard people used that term to call their children and think its “ghetto” or “demeaning” but let me tell you, its truth.

The other day my son is sitting on the floor in the living room and he reaches down and faster than you can spell “the” he reaches in the rug and perfectly picks up a crumb like Frank Thomas used to scoop up a baseball. Hence he has lived up to the name.

He’s in the grabbing state, so anything within reach is game, even its its out of reach, its still game.

He’s going for it, a cup, remote, toy and yes crumbs.

His reactions are jack rabbit fast and his strength is amazing. You’ve heard about “old man strength”, where some old cat you think is way past his prime ‘still has it”. Yeah ask any teenage boy whose old man knocked him out.
Well these little kids got that “baby power”. My son can use his whole body strength to get what he wants (its like “The Force”, daycare style), so one little short arm “stiff arms” you to hold you back while the free arm grabs that crumb.

Try prying that crumb out of his hand, good luck, you’re more likely to get a pulverized saltine than anything else.

Then he sits and laughs at you.

And you’re pissed but can’t stay mad at him. You don’t want him to see you crack and smile so you bite your lip and mumble something to him.

He’s still laughing.

You know I thought I was smart, I write this blog (and another blog at Linked In), and I graduated from both Brother Rice & DePaul University. I’ve worked for United Airlines and done corporate work since 2000, I’ve done a lot in my 40 years.

It don’t mean jack to that little boy.

He’s figured not one but two methods of crawling. He can “get low” and do an army crawl and strategically get to where he wants and you don’t even know until stuff starts falling.

Or he can beat you with speed and “go high” and out race you to the goal.

It’s like a Corvette racing a garbage truck and you are not the sports car.

Speaking of garbage that little boy goes to the bathroom like a grown man. No I don’t mean has bad aim and misses the toilet and leaves the seat up.

No in volume he’s gotta be pooping his weight on a daily basis, hell some days I think he exceeds it. I mean you talk about what goes in must come out. His “gross” national product (GNP), has to be more than most third world countries.

My wife and mother handle 99% of that and it’s the definition of “Waste Management”, those green garbage trucks on the street got nothing on my son.

Anyone with small kid should have a class “P” license because with a kid in the car you are “Special Waste Hauler” and the P is for poop.

Did I mention I love that little dude more than life itself?

Excuse me, I gotta go see what that little crumbsnatcher has gotten into next.

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Filed under: Baby

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