So the twins have totally arrived in the land of make belief. The teddy bear they were acquiring maternal instincts towards has emerged as their full-fledged baby, with all the attendant biological and emotional needs. They feed it, wash and dry its hands and face, give it the bed-time routine and put it to bed, then wake it up and wash and dry its face again, which I never do to them. They carry him around on their hips and console him when he falls down. They talk to him, croon to him, give him lots of hugs and kisses, and make him play football. They wipe his nose on their hankie. And, horror of horrors, they put him on the toilet! They even flush the toilet when he’s done! I thought he would fall in, but luckily he doesn’t. Or, should I say, he hasn’t yet?
And just a few minutes ago, Mrini headed to the cupboard where the diapers are kept and demanded a diaper to put on him before she put him to bed!
Initially, I sort of aided and abetted them in their parenting, but now I’m wondering: perhaps this has gone too far? I mean, if they want to bathe, oil him, and dress him next, I’m in trouble. I’ll have to buy a whole new set of clothes. And shoes. And miniature diapers. Not to mention stuffed-teddy-bear-proof soap and oil.
Sigh. I’m not sure I’m ready for another baby right now. Can this wait a few years?