She loves me ... she loves me not ...

Ryan has been kind of possessive of me lately. Whenever Chris and I sit next to each other and cuddle (cute or gag? I think cute!) or even if Chris gives me a hug, the whining machine starts whirling around in a fury. This also parallels his inability to consistently grasp the whole sharing concept that is a just a bit important in the whole toddler social scene. 

After Chris declaring every time the whine started to flow that I was his wife and that he was allowed to hug me (and other cheesy stuff!) Ryan has started calling me, "Wife!" whenever he sees Chris lay one on me. He also announces, "Wife!" whenever he sees my wedding and engagement ring. It has been like the priest announcing, "And I now declare you husband and wife!" so I am a fan of his trumpet and fanfare act. You would think that all of that would have buried the hatchet between my two boys?

Well. It seems Ryan decided to go ahead and see if I still loved him past all of this wife business and carried out the preferred tell tale method of true love according to five year old girls:

Mama loves me ... she loves me not ... she loves me ... she loves me not.

Don't worry, I do (unconditional love and all that jazz)... but next time, don't let your plucking game coincide with me swirling your explosive diaper in the toilet.