Have a Hippo, You'll Feel Better

Today I got upset about something and started to cry.  I sat down on the floor and called Isaac over to me.  He put his head on my shoulder and sat there sweetly with me for about a minute, then abruptly got up, trotted off, and returned with his favorite stuffed hippo, which he dropped on my head.  It was like he was saying, "OK, enough crying.  Have a hippo, it'll help you feel better."

So I squeezed the hippo's butt to make it squeak, and Isaac picked up his tiger, whose butt also squeaks, and we began a game of what an online friend of mine refers to as "co-squeaking."  I squeak the hippo, Isaac squeaks the tiger, repeat, repeat, repeat.  Only Isaac couldn't decide which toy he wanted to squeak and which toy he wanted to let me squeak.  Every time I squeaked the hippo, Isaac decided he wanted the hippo and snatched it out of my hand.  Then I would squeak the tiger, and he would decide he wanted that, and drop the hippo in order to snatch the tiger away from me.  He's like a little kid that thinks whatever toy someone else has must be the best one.

He was right, though.  After ten minutes or so of co-squeaking the hippo, I did feel a bit better.