Graham is my bruiser. He climbs the park structures and down the slides like a boss. Jude takes toys from him and body slams him all day long, and he doesn't bat a lengthy eyelash, but if I haven't read his mind on food or beverage, or put him down too soon, he scrunches up his face and smooshes out his soggy lips. He loves to climb up on the couch and lean way back, getting really comfy. And he beholds his kingdom (the family room) with a look of satisfaction.
He woke up crying from teething last week and I went up to take him some Tylenol. I picked him up and as I put the dropper to his mouth he growled, "Not that!" I had to laugh -- he growls 90% of his little sentences.
He loves hanging with the bros. If there's a grown man around, that's who he wants to play with. On the 4th of July, we went to the beach with a bunch of friends, and Graham spotted the Air Force Pilot in the bunch immediately (Seth Schurtz) and climbed up on his lap. It's like he knew that of all the people there, this guy would be most likely to hook him up with a ride on a fighter jet. They shared a can of Pringles, and Graham would take huge stacks of them and shove them in Seth's mouth.
He tries to run and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen. If I leave the baby gate open for 2 seconds he knows it and books it as fast as his fat legs can go, pumping his arms, eyes wild with the thrill of MAYBE making it into the office where he can throw pens around.
Long live Bruiser!
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