Teddy, you are basically feral. You poop your pants, you yell at us randomly with neither rhyme nor reason, you run around on all fours, and only a generous twenty percent of your food makes it into your mouth, the rest the floor. Don’t get me wrong you’re cute as well, and you love to give hugs and request music, but in the end of the day you are still Feral. You even bit me!
I’m not sure when you won’t be feral… is it when you finally start calling me Dada instead of Mama despite my many requests. Is it when you are given a plate, and your first instinct isn’t to flip it on to the floor from your highchair. Maybe when we get past your need to chew on everything? Who knows… What I do know is your about ten minutes away from walking and I assume you will just become an extra mobile feral creature who hunts in the night.
Jokes on you Teddy! By the time you are no longer feral, your sister SI will take over, and you will become the hunted. My adult legs are so much faster than your toddling legs.