Teno in your face.

Here is a quick summery of what is to come. Please enjoy Teno Slater in a nutshell.

Teno, much like most of the people in our neighborhood, only understands English when it is convenient for him. For example, he never misses the word “cookie” or the phrase”bath time” but when asked “where is mommy’s phone?” he just stares at me as if to say “oh, no English, sorry!” He knows “phone,” because when mine rings and I don’t want to answer it he points at my purse and yells “po!” at me until I go get it. He also knows “where is…?” because he can go get his skateboard, his favorite stuffed animal, or show you where his nose, eyes and feet are on demand. Very crafty, that Teno.

Teno has recently embraced the true meaning of Christmas, having chosen behind our silver tinsel tree as his new pooping spot. He stands back there, red-faced and grunting, trying to pull his glass squirrel ornament off the branch and causing quite a stink at the same time. Then he runs to me, slaps his crotch and yells “poo!” Sometimes he’ll even run directly into his room and lie on the floor waiting for the royal butt to be cleansed.

I have a little baking partner who pulls a step stool up to the counter and helps me add ingredients to the bowl. I hope Teno remembers these moments when he becomes the nation’s first linebacker/pastry chef. He’s so clever, though, he knows what every kitchen tool is for and he replicates everything we do later with his little wooden kitchen. Right now he’s throwing plastic peppers and wooden hamburger buns all over the living room. I made plastic pepper sandwiches for dinner last night, that’s where he got that.

Teno also likes to help me put on my make up. Just this morning he wiped foundation in my hair, leaving a gorgeous flesh-toned stripe. He then rubbed a Mac eyeshadow pot all over his cheek and then held it to his ear and answered it, “huh-woah?” I would estimate that in the last three months Teno has eaten and/or broken over $200 worth of Mac, Nars and Make Up Forever products in my bathroom. I’m sure many of you are wondering why I let this happen time and time again. To you, I say this: come over here and try to stop Teno from doing things. I will give you 500 American dollars if you succeed without resorting to violence or tying him to a chair.

Now we’re off to buy wrapping paper, Teno and I will wear our peacoats and boots and pretend we’re Damien and his nanny in The Omen. It’s all for you, Teno! Crack!