a female crab.
This is how I would define sook before meeting my Canadian wife. The opposite of a sook is a jimmy. However, sook has an entirely different meaning now and my wife has 3 of them.
We have 2 kids and both of them are sooks. Needy, attention craving, dote over me kind of kids. Pet me! Pet me! Play with me! Lately, the second born has been a sook for me. Wants me. Wants only me. As if he had OCD, only I can perform his requested task. God hath no furry as an OCD toddler*.
Now this is all fine and dandy. I feel privileged, honored even. I get the rambunctious kitchen dances. I get to play airplane. I get extra hugs and kisses. I get cozy book time at bedtime. I get sleepy snuggles after it’s lights out. I get extra laughs from tickles. I also get the joys of bath time and the warm, towel wrapped cuddles afterward.
However, it’s not all fun and games and snuggles for the big sook. When he spills he wants me to clean him up. When he drops his milk or his fork (while he’s buckled into his seat at the dinner table) he wants me to pick it up. When his cup is empty it is I who must fill it. When it’s 3 am (or any hour of the night when normal people are sleeping) he wants me to come lay with him. When it’s time to go it must be me who dresses him, puts his coat and boots and hat and mittens on him. All trivial tasks, course. Except for the dreaded diaper change! When shits himself it’s me he wants.** Its vile enough to make me gag. It often stinks up no less than 2 rooms. If it were any more repugnant the paint would melt off the walls. Any more disgusting and I’d sell it to the military to replace gas bombs.
To those who have babies or had babies, you know what I speak of. To those who are going to have babies, consider yourself properly warned.
*He does not actually have OCD. He has a case of the twos. (Symptoms also resembles the threes)
** In my own defense, it’s not as bad as I’ve made it out to be. He does let mom help, too (just not as often).