Despite my Bachelors degree in saving lives and curing cancer there are days when I have to step back and seriously consider how it is that my toddler, my uneducated or rather educated by my own hands toddler, has the wits to outsmart me yet again.
Just yesterday he walked me over to the couch, sat me down, handed me a book, draped me with a receiving blanket, patted my hand and lovingly whispered "night-night." Now, don't be fooled like I was, Loyals As I sat there, my heart overflowing with pride and emotion that my kind, sweet boy was thinking of others with such an altruistic heart, my kind, sweet boy was hiding behind the drapes, emptying an entire box of Vanilla Wafers and sliding them between the slats on the heating duct while alternately tossing one to the dog.
A day before that, he walked upstairs from the playroom and closed the door behind him, leaving me to play trains and read books by my lonesome, an activity we had both been enjoying together just minutes prior.
As I crept up the stairs and quietly opened the door to the kitchen, I found him pulling a chair up to the counter where he had lovingly placed his leftover mac-n-cheese in front of the fish bowl, muttering "Choo-Choo Fish, eat! Choo-Choo Fish, cheeeese!" I can only imagine where he was headed with that one.
He's a smart cookie, that C. A smart, conniving, wily cookie.
A cookie that purposely goes through the motions of distraction so that he can, once again, slip out the sliding glass door unattended.
A cookie that uses the dog or his brother as a scapegoat for ill intentions.
How does he even know how to do these things?
Last time I checked, Thomas the Tank Engine didn't release an episode on Outsmarting Sir Topham Hatt. There isn't a Veggie Tales movie on Pulling The Wool Over Your Mama's Eyes.
So what gives? He's only two. I can only imagine what his teenage years will bring. Somebody hold me.