When I was a kid, there was a time period when Maurice Sendack's Where The Wild Things Are was my favorite book. After a few hundred readings of it, my mom began to make it more exciting by adding voices and actions throughout the story. This included a tickle fight with lots of nibbling on sensitive skin when the wild things tell Max, "Oh, no! Do not go! We'll eat you up; we love you so!" This became a term of endearment in my family, and was a warning that you were about to be...eaten. I have, of course, continued this tradition with my children. I enjoy being a hungry wild thing now almost as much as I enjoyed being Max wrecking havoc when I was a kid. Yesterday, we were up at the church. While I was in nursery feeding David, my mom brought Karen to me so that she wouldn't interrupt the funeral. Karen played with the other kids for a bit, but then she came over and started climbing all over me, disturbing David's lunch. It was about lunch time, and I was hungry, so I wasn't too surprised when Karen said, "I eat!" I calmly told her that as soon as we left church, we'd have lunch. But she continued to yell, "I eat" and then kiss David or me. Finally, I got it. "Are you eating us up, you love us so?" "Yep!" she said. Then she yelled, "I eat up, love you!" one last time, then kissed David. David actually laughed that time, instead of shoving her away so that he could eat. She then happily climbed down and went back to playing.