#3 is obsessed. OBSESSED! No, not any kind of ball (like he was with the stranger's ball at the park this morning). No, not screaming as loudly as he can (like he does everytime #4 cries, anyone takes away his toys, he isn't listened to, or you look at him wrong, which is what happened all day today). No, not with cookies (like he is everyday). I'm talking about the BIG obsession. huge, people, HUGE!
It's Poomba. Our Roomba.
We purchased this last year sometime, and it was named by DH with a friendly Disney name as to not scare the children as they watched this random robot moving about the room.
Now, somehow, #3 thinks of it as a real pet. He talks to it. Looks at it. GUARDS it. And wants it to vaccuum all the time.
I can't tell if this is because he likes robotic things, likes the sound of it, enjoys watching it, or just needs more attention from mom, but it's starting to worry me. Hopefully, he'll grow out of it. But for now, Poomba is his life. ~sigh~ I guess it could be worse. I mean, he could be into worms and bugs right now, right?