He pulls at her, squishes and squashes her, complains that she takes his toys, and squeezes her until she howls.
But he loves her, and always, always, calls her "my baby."
"Mom," he'll complain. "My baby is trying to eat my dinner" (when he's eating and she scoots up to the table). Or, he'll whine, "Mama, I want to touch my baaaaaby," when she's cute and cuddly and I'm carrying her around.
Most often, it's: "Mom, my baby is trying to play with my ... (insert one of 100 toys--he can't stand it when she touches his stuff).
This kid, my son, is so unbearably sweet. And he's thrilled he has a sister. Even when he's not.
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