Hands-on science from the hands of a preschooler
Several Pixy Stixx, paper and all - I was wondering how he was devouring them so quickly when Big Guy still was sucking on his first one.
I'm sure he was disappointed at the pale results - the water was more baby blue than the neon I'd managed to make it. I'm sure I would have wanted to ring his little neck if I hadn't already been used to his toilet capers.
His grandaddy's not used to them, but he handled it well nonetheless when Boots stuffed most of a roll of paper down the toilet last week. "I put the new roll on backward," my dad said later. "It's harder to get it all off that way."
Just as it's harder every day to keep up with Boots' "man of action" stunts.
We're in the throes of a belated but frenzied bout of spring cleaning since we got home - nothing like a hotel room where the beds are magically made every day to remind you that you've been living in a sty - and that's unearthed a whole new level of covert operations.
The Omega-3 Boots is supposed to take every day: I'm finding piles of sugary, gummy fish all over the house, on tables and window sills, stuffed into a drawer. I'm sure the last location came after I kept busting him when he casually tossed them on the floor. He's now sentenced to kitchen confinement until he can prove to me that the vitamin's been chewed and swallowed.
The Pull-Ups he's supposed to put in the garbage every morning after he dresses: Dismantled and stuffed under beds, his and Big Guy's. I supposed I should be happy he's quit putting them in the laundry hamper. The spin cycle does ugly things to Pull-Ups.
The precious "destructions" that came with his latest set of Thomas cars: Destroyed all over a table. Just an hour earlier, he'd roared when Big Guy had accidentally ripped off a tiny corner.
"I don't get that kid," Big Guy lamented this morning as he helped me find an apple core we knew Boots had stashed somewhere in the house. We didn't know where, though, and Boots merely grinned sphinx-like when we asked.
I'm not sure I do either at times. He seems to try to elevate organized chaos to an art form, because, toilet stuffing aside, there's usually an element of neatness to his messes.
The shredded papers were neatly piled. The ripped-up Pull-Ups were nicely stacked. The only thing random was the vitamins, and even then there were several fish in each location.
I think it's all because he's the type that wants to dig in, find out what happens and deal with the aftermath later. Or maybe he's heard the old George Carlin line: If the cops didn't see it, I didn't do it.
Whatever the reason, it makes life interesting. Just be sure to check before flushing the toilet if you happen to visit us.
Copyright 2009 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.