So first, notice the Pancho Villa moustache and beard they painted on him at school. Second, notice his utter disdain for everything going on around him in this photo. Max has an attitude. Max may even have an attitude problem. My best little buddy is doing his utmost to cause a tiny MexiCanadian revolution in the house, attempting to overthrow the powers of Mommy and Papa and become El Jefe de la Casa. He's a stubborn little burro, and he is working his manipulative little campaign of terror with the determination of a bull. He's facing a tough battle against the dictators currently ruling the house, he's done some hard time outs and had to endure some dinners without dessert, but he forges on.
His rallying cries of "Nooooo!" and "I don't want to" and "No quiero" reverberate through the neighbourhood. The snorkel has become his weapon of choice, he wields it with skillful hands and a shout of "Bang bang". Using his devilishly clever mind, he attempts to play mommy and daddy off each other, occasionally succeeding in outwitting them, much to their chagrin.
You've got to give the kid credit, he's got guts. And energy. Lots and lots and lots of energy. His age and vigour just might put him out ahead in the game some days.
But then, between skirmishes, I will hear him laugh uproariously for no reason or see him do a cartwheel or hear him say "I love you mommy" or watch him draw an iguana or feed the kittens or play air guitar or scarf down three big tacos with hot salsa and a liter of jamaica, and then the victory is all mine. Worth every sweaty, weepy, back achy, headachy and occasionally bloody day.