Then Moe bit me. We were having a really fun time playing on the floor. He was giggling and snuggling. Then Jelly, who simply cannot let me have a moment alone with Moe, ran up, squealing the whole way. She crashed right into me. Moe, who is not too excited by Jelly's presence, rolled over to get out of the way, and as he rolled, he bit my leg. Broke the skin this time.
Moe isn't malicious when he bites. He doesn't do it out of anger. But when Moe gets excited, he gets a little manic, and the deep pressure of biting is how he self-regulates. He'll go to his toy monkey, a book or other "appropriate" item first, but if you happen to be in the way, look out. Usually I can see it coming and avoid it, but this time I was completely surprised.
And all I could think, after a string of expletives that I try to keep off my blog but feel perfectly comfortable spouting off inside my own head, was "I don't want this anymore." And I meant it.
So much for acceptance.
