Our little boy is growing up. He doesn’t walk very much yet, but I’m pretty
sure he is solidly in the toddler phase of life. I base this assessment on the large path of
destruction he can create in a very short amount of time. I realize that for all of you with kids older
than mine these types of events are old news, but it’s a first time adventure
for me, so please indulge my story and pretend that you find it as cute and
humorous as I do.
A cold has been making its way through our household. Today I had an awful headache. Finally this afternoon I decided that what I really
needed was a nap. So I put my little boy
in his room to play and went to lie down.
He was pretty sure that he had been abandoned for life and screamed like
it was the end of the world. This uproar did
not help my headache. So I rescued him
from the confines of his bedroom, grabbed some of his toys, turned on some
cartoons, and set him down to play in my room.
He settled down and I fell asleep.
20 minutes later I woke up when he pulled the Texan’s night stand
down. My little redhead looked at me and laughed like
it was a spectacularly fun game. I was really
glad that he wasn’t hurt and the lamp didn’t break. I got out of bed to start picking up and
discovered that he had been very busy for 20 minutes.
He had unpacked the diaper bag and spread pretzels
throughout the room; unloaded both drawers of my night stand (I'm pretty sure he couldn’t
reach those last week); tried to eat our rent check; found a sucker and unwrapped
it leaving sticky handprints on the wall and a purple spot on the carpet;
unloaded, and unfolded, all of the laundry that I did yesterday; and left all
of his toys untouched. Now it is his
turn to take a nap.
