Let me tell you a little something about this guy.
He looks sweet and cuddly (which he is), but beware. Behind those soulful eyes, he has a very disturbing affinity for . . . throwing food. This may not seem like something caution worthy, but you'll understand my worry if ever you find yourself near him while he's eating. He will smile at you, mumble some endearing jargon, lift some food to his mouth, and then throw it, right on you if you haven't been smart enough to keep a four foot perimeter of safety about. And special attention should be paid when he's eating lasagna or anything with rice. Rice will go the distance. Trust.
It will be even more bothersome if for some reason you find yourself having to clean up after him. This gets old after the third time.
Now imagine the state of MY mind as I've been cleaning up after him roughly three times a day, seven days a week, ever since he was able to get food in those chubby baby hands of his. So about twelve months and counting.
A year of me crouched down on the floor. A year washing down walls and other things. A year trying to curb his appetite to throw instead of eat (all in vain by the way). A year arguing with the Husband over who he inherited this from.
And all that's come about is Bubba's wicked curve ball. He can throw better than most four year olds, or eight year olds. Heck. He throws better than I can. But of course that's not really saying much.
And why should all this food throwing bother me so greatly anyway? I mean I save bacon grease in a jar by the stove and reuse it! How's that for gross, unsavory (but oh so savory) behavior!
But this is neither here nor there.
Bottom-line: I don't see this stopping anytime soon, unless we just stop feeding him. And while I've considered it for about thirty seconds (fine! Thirty minutes) I just can't halt food service. He might actually surprise us one day and consume more than he chucks.
Until that day comes, beware the Bubba.