BINKADELIC, BABY!

Thaddeus guarding his stash. This is the baby who REFUSED to take a pacifier until he was, like, FIVE MONTHS OLD. And then, ONLY FOR HIS NANA. Now he stockpiles them, hiding them in strategic places so that he is never more than 10 steps away from one should crying be required.

He deals binkies, truth be known. He will let you have one. For a price. Namely, time at Mommy's Milk Bar.

Sometimes a pickle will entice him (thanks to Aunt Julie!). For a while. Because the sourness is just so . . . intense. But before long, he has to have his fix again.

So he crab-crawls off to find his stash and work one over with his one snaggletooth.

Still, the pickle is pretty worn by the time he's done with it. And watching him pucker is Just. So. Delicious!

But the best thing about thing about the bink is that IT IS PORTABLE, unlike the pickle, which the 'rents make him sit in once place to eat, with a cloth under his chin. Sigh.

So he just pops the bink in the mouth, case the joint for new places to explore and then sets off!

And if he is really lucky, he might encounter Daddy and be able to crawl ALL OVER HIM AND WRESTLE HIM AND SUCK ON HIS NOSE AND ON HIS KNEE AND ON HIS KNUCKLE AND ON HIS HEAD AND MAYBE I CAN GET HIS GLASSES BEFORE HE TELLS ME NO OR TAKES THEM OFF, IF I AM SNEAKY AND ACT NONCHALANT LIKE THE LAST THING I WANT IN THE WORLD I WANT IS DADDY'S GLASSES.

Cause I'm BINKADELIC, BABY!