My Little Boy Who Cries Wolf

For months now Scott's favorite phrase has been "Help me!"

The first time I heard him say it, I thought it must have been my mind hearing things that weren't there. But after awhile I realized that in fact my little one and a half year old boy was frequently pleading, "Help me!" Well, okay, so it's actually more like, "Hawp me." He could say this before he could reliably refer to us as "Mommy" and "Daddy." It was his first sentence of sorts. But it's getting old. He uses it for EVERYTHING. Resourceful, but annoying. Just in the time I've been composing this post, he's come to me twice and said it. I'm supposed figure out what he wants from his plea of "Hawp me" and the fact that he hands me disassembled toys.

I understand when he says it because he's stuck perched across the gaping chasm between the coffee table and couch and his grip is slipping. "Hawp me!" I also understand when he says it because he wants to get into his high chair to eat lunch. "Hawp me!" But all M and I can do is roll our eyes when he yells it out in the middle of church because we've barricaded him into the pew with our legs and he wants to run free. "Hawp me!" Who exactly does he think is going to help him???