Wild child

wild child

He has learned to climb....high. He sits on top of our bar, by climbing from the smaller chair, to the bar stool, to the bar. He likes being up high, bigger, tearing ugly artwork off the wall.

He can reach the computer. He climbs on the chair, onto the desk, and types away. He erases important computer info. Fun.

He can open the back door. He lifts the latch, after practicing for days and days. He waits for the day that the padlock is left off, lifts the latch, and runs, laughing, wind in his hair...straight for the swimming pool.

He loves toilets. He stakes out the bathroom, waiting for the small girl to take a potty break. He can overpower her. The door creaks open, and he pushes past her, straight to the toilet. He drops a toy into it. One of HER toys. Small girl screams.

He likes to play with EVERYTHING when I change his diaper. I thought he just had an itch. Now I know he has an obsession. Especially when he poops. Wet wipe, please. Or six.

He climbs onto the coffee table, at my feet, and free falls. He expects me to catch him. I usually do. He expects me to catch him every time. Sorry Juju.

He is my wild child. I am exhausted.

posted by mindi11 @ 4/16/2005 12:37:00 AM