One of River's latest interests is in buttons. He loves all kinds: buttons on the ice dispenser, buttons on the washing machine control panel, buttons on the automatic coffee maker. No alarm clock, elevator, or ATM machine can be passed without some attempt to push those ever so enticing buttons. I do let him push them when I can (after we've loaded the dishwasher, for instance) and hold him back when prudent (as he attempts to withdraw $100 from my bank account). But the one button he is most in love with these days is the Belly Button.
He is just obsessed. He attacks me four or five times a day--pulling up my shirt and examining my navel. He pokes at it and laughs as though it's the funniest thing he could have done. It was a grand day when he discovered his own belly button; the shock and joy that he too had a little inexplicable nubbin right on his tummy was overwhelming.
This afternoon he had a belly button jones and because of some restrictive clothing (damn those crotch snapped onesies!) he couldn't reach it. Try as he might, his undershirt wouldn't give him access to his tummy. He tugged and tugged and fussed and fussed until finally I stripped him down to his diaper, and then he had a grand ol' time--poke poke, giggle giggle. It was just about the cutest thing I've ever seen.
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After I read this post the Banks Doyles happened to be over for dinner. Just to see what would happen, I called across the room to River, "Hey River, Where's your belly button?" With everyone in the room watching, he turned to me, lifted his shirt up and poked at his belly button. We all died of cuteness overload. Good times.
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