Things I Don't Like

From one end to the other

Originally published 30 April 2016

A little while ago I listed some of the things I like most, like books (specifically reading and having read to me the same few books repeatedly, until Mummy and Daddy can recite them by heart) and cats (specifically chasing them and sitting on them while they're eating). But in the interest of fairness I thought it was time to list a few of the things that I just don't like as well. The sort of things that will have me protesting loudly or running away from crying.

One of the traits I inherited from Daddy is a bit of a juicy nose. Most mornings I start the day with a few hearty sneezes; it's sort of the dawn chorus for Mum and Dad in our house. Unfortunately one thing I just don't like doing is blowing my nose. Having it wiped is fine, but even with repeated requests I just won't blow it. Sometimes to give Mum false hope I'll tell her that I'll blow my nose, then instead I'll just sniff it all back up again.

Fluff is something else I just don't like, which is a bit of a problem since I spend so much time playing on the floor and grabbing the cats' fur. But if I get some fluff on my hands, especially if I'm eating, that will send me running to Mum or Dad yelling "fluff! fluff!" until it's removed.

Going back to my first days of 'double breakfasts' at daycare, I've always been a good eater. I love biccies, pizza, pasta, raisins... lots of things in fact. But not eggs or tomato ("mato" as I call them). If I see them in my salads or sandwiches I'll quickly pull them out and leave them on the plate, if not actually cast them onto the floor. In true parent fashion, Mummy will sometimes try to snek tomatoes into things, but since I'm always on the lookout for these horrible things I rarely get sucked into eating them.

I'll be turning 3 in a couple of months, so am quite a big boy now. My vocabularly is expanding all the time, I run around and play on my own or with friends at daycare, and I'm starting to get a better handle on numbers. But one thing I'm just not ready for is using the potty. Nappies work just fine for me thank you; no need to squat on the cold floor with my pants off just to go toilet when I can do it whenever I please without any hassle. Mummy and Daddy keep trying to encourage me, but I'm wising up to their game and make myself scarce when I can see they're about to try to get me to go again. Maybe they're just jealous that they don't have handy nappies too.