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Sorry, Boots. Big Guy’s already tried that one

Submitted by on Tuesday, 5 May 2009 No Comment

brothers2The disadvantage of being the younger child is that you’re born to an experienced parent. One well-acquainted with the sneaky ways of a rascally preschooler.

Which means that, with the exception of Boots’ toilet fixation, there is very little he can pull that Big Guy hasn’t already tried. And tried with considerably more panache, because he’s covert that way.

Case in point: Boots’ recent efforts to destroy the evidence of an uneaten breakfast in hopes of scoring snacks.

He started with the “hide in the open” approach of dumping it in obvious spots. Like the kitchen garbage.

Big Guy did that only once before asking to be excused from the dinner table and stuffing his grilled cheese and grapes into the diaper pail. Sadly, the garbage had run that day so I didn’t find the rotting remains until almost a week later. Pheeeeewwww!

Boots, though, stuck with the direct approach a little longer.

Sunday morning: “Can I have chips?”

“Did you eat your Cheerios?”

“Yes, Mommy, yes!”

“Um, then what’s that on top of the garbage?” The fact that he’d put the whole bowl, not just its contents, made the investigative work easier.

“Sowwy, Mommy.”

But just in case he didn’t take me seriously when I said to dump the cereal in his tummy, not in the trash, he had to try again Tuesday.

“Mommy, can I have cakey?”

“Did you eat your Cheerios?”

“Yes, Mommy, yes!”

“Am I going to find them in the garbage?”

“No! I ate them!” But he had that little glint of a liar’s smile in his eyes, the giveaway trait apparently carried on the male chromosome in this family. It told me I should check.

Sure enough, there sat a mountain of Cheerios on top of the garbage.

“Sowwy, Mommy.”

Today, Day Three, I thought he was wearing down.

“Can I have cakey? I ate my Cheewios.”

I glanced at the garbage. Nothing there. “OK, but I have to go to the bathroom first.”

And there, floating in the toilet, were the Cheerios. And the bowl. And the spoon. Dang. This kid really likes the potty. Ewwwwwwww.

“Sowwy, Mommy.”

At least he’s apologetic, though he did “call Dad” on his play cell phone and tell him Mommy was being mean after I moaned about my poor broken heart, shattered by his dishonesty.

Tomorrow, the bathroom will be my first stop.

The big puzzle: Why he keeps asking for Cheewios for bweckfes when he clearly doesn’t want them.

The bigger mystery: How long will it be before I’m again fishing moldy sandwiches and fermented fruit from the bedroom garbage?

Bring it on, Boots. I’m ready for you.

Copyright 2009 Debra Legg. All right reserved.

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