I know toddlers. Really, I do. They get into everything, they're crazy curious, they have no sense of boundaries. I KNOW toddlers.
But Weston is not a toddler. For one thing, he doesn't toddle. For another, he's still a sweet baby. Or so I thought.
On Saturday, McMoose was working in the yard and Luke was asleep, so I decided to do some sewing. Weston was crawling around, examining various toys and tasting every speck and dust bunny on the floor. In other words: it was a typical Saturday afternoon.
Of course, I got caught up in my sewing and after a few minutes, realized that Weston was being very...quiet. And playing very independently. And not chasing any cats or pulling on any wires or trying to get to the DVDs. In other words, he was acting quite unlike himself. So I walked over behind the ottoman that he was sitting beside and found, to my great dismay, that in the less-than-five minutes that he had been sitting there, he had pulled up the grate on the heating vent and was busily stuffing toys down the vent. Awesome.
We pulled up several trucks, balls, and a feather, and then couldn't reach any farther. I'm pretty sure we got everything and I'm hoping really hard for that to be true.
I guess it was around this time that Luke started doing things like unrolling the toilet paper and pulling door stoppers off the wall, so really, I shouldn't be surprised, but really? Are we here already? Ah, infancy, your stay was so fleeting.
But Weston is not a toddler. For one thing, he doesn't toddle. For another, he's still a sweet baby. Or so I thought.
On Saturday, McMoose was working in the yard and Luke was asleep, so I decided to do some sewing. Weston was crawling around, examining various toys and tasting every speck and dust bunny on the floor. In other words: it was a typical Saturday afternoon.
Of course, I got caught up in my sewing and after a few minutes, realized that Weston was being very...quiet. And playing very independently. And not chasing any cats or pulling on any wires or trying to get to the DVDs. In other words, he was acting quite unlike himself. So I walked over behind the ottoman that he was sitting beside and found, to my great dismay, that in the less-than-five minutes that he had been sitting there, he had pulled up the grate on the heating vent and was busily stuffing toys down the vent. Awesome.
We pulled up several trucks, balls, and a feather, and then couldn't reach any farther. I'm pretty sure we got everything and I'm hoping really hard for that to be true.
I guess it was around this time that Luke started doing things like unrolling the toilet paper and pulling door stoppers off the wall, so really, I shouldn't be surprised, but really? Are we here already? Ah, infancy, your stay was so fleeting.
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