I now know how football was developed. It wasn't by a group of men sitting down to figure out a game. A bunch of boys got together got a ball and started tackling. When Quinn is trying to get Megan out of the way he'll drop his shoulder and go barrelling at her chest. That's right my 16 month old instinctively knows how to tackle.
Quinn will run up give you a big hug, lean back, smile then hit you. Yup, that's my son. Aggressor. Here is what I imagine Quinn thinks-. "I want that toy. I think I'll hit you in the face to get it. What I can't hit? Oh, I'll bite you instead. It's OK, I like biting better anyway. WHAT??? I can't bite? Now that is just completely unreasonable. I'm going to throw myself on the floor and SCREAM like I've never screamed before. Now repeat this 100x a day. Reasonable yes?