The Torture Gene

Newsflash: They have finally discovered the torture gene.  It is passed down through the maternal grandmother and can, in fact, skip a generation.  I work for a famous biotechnology company so, of course, I am privy to this type of super secret genetic informational scoop.  You read it here first.

My mom is known for her creativity when it comes to torturing her loved ones.  When I was three, she taught me how to take my hair and tickle my baby brother’s nose when he was sleeping in his car seat.  I subconsciously cover my rear end as I scamper up the stairs.  There is an extreme sense of vulnerability in a public port-a-potty.  And she is acclaimed for hiding in the dark and jumping out, sending that same younger brother into some sort of harmless, yet convulsive attack.  These examples barely scratch the surface.  The name “Aunt Suzy” is uttered in a tone of both awe and giddy fear by all of my cousins…

Jacob is clearly a carrier of said gene.  I’m pretty sure it began to manifest itself before his first birthday and has begun to advance at an alarming rate.

It began with the zerberts.  His giggle started to take on that slightly maniacal quality of a truly gifted family torturer.  Then he invented “Shut Mama in the Closet.”  This involves shutting me in my closet and then peeking in to see if I’m still in there and then shut the doors again real quick, laughing triumphantly.

Another one of his favorite torture tricks I like to call “Psych!”  Today when I arrived home, Jake was enjoying a pre-dinner hors d’oeuvre of cherries (“balls”… which just doesn’t sound right no matter how you frame it).  He always gets this big adorable smile on his face and offers to feed me.  He’ll get it all the way into my mouth and then, Psych!, redirects it into his mouth where he chomps it down, wiggling and laughing at his own torturing brilliance.

He’s taken this splendid torture recipe and reworked it to fit our morning routine.  He brushes his teeth with his Dada while I do my make-up at the sink.  Then every time my back is turned, he offers me his toothbrush.  As soon as I turn around, he quick puts it back in his mouth and pretends like nothing happened.  Endless glee.

Jakey clearly has a knack for this… scientifically proven, it’s in his genes.


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