Like a moth to the flame...

As B is gets older, more and more of his personality is starting to come through. Here is an example. Normally, a hungry baby is a hungry baby. When B decides that he's hungry, you best have a bottle in hand and ready to go. Not so this morning at a very groggy 5 AM. B, Momma-B and I were going through our normal early morning routine, change B out of his super wet overnight diaper and plug is gaping pie hole with a bottle, then slowly try not to nod off in the 5 minutes it takes him to drain said bottle. This morning was different. Diaper was changed (B decided to leave mommy a small surprise of the turd variety this time) and bottle was prepared. Momma B normally takes the daiper because she's like Houdini with those things. Ones off and the other is on before B knows that his pants were down. I take bottle duty and let her go back to bed. B and I are in our glider doing our normal thing. B clearly hungry wolves down the first ounce then stops. He crains his neck back in what can only be described as an impression of Linda Blair during the Exorcist and refuses to take his bottle or turn his head. 5 AM I'm tired so I sit there and rock him thinking/hoping that he'll pass back out and I can go to bed. No luck. Captain McCrainMyNeck sits there with eyes wide open. After about 10 minutes of this I switch arms to ward off the impending muscle spasm that I'm sure to enjoy. This is when I realize that he's staring at the lamp on the night stand (I'm groggy here remember). From this angle B's mouth is in a better position to enjoy his morning num-nums. Insert bottle. Drain bottle. B sleep now. Dad sleep now. All's well that ends well. Next time I turn off the damn lamp.