1. dragging his blankee through the pile of dust, crumbs, cheerios, leaves, dirt, etc. that i'd swept into a nice pile on my kitchen floor. he did this on purpose. i know because he giggled.
2. helping my mother in law by grabbing glass items and running away with them. this was also done on purpose. i know because again, he giggled.
3. NOT hiking on the trail but instead, hiking anywhere else. like, the creek. or the poison oak. and guess what? he giggled the whole time. i think we can guess what that means. . .
4. collecting sticks and sword fighting with anyone else who happened to be holding a stick. or any bush that had sticks poking out of it.
5. dropping ryan's keys in the toilet. we can't be sure if he did this on purpose because ryan didn't discover it for a few hours and seth was asleep at the time of discovery. but, after living what we lived through with him this weekend, my guess is that yeah, it was on purpose.
6. also, this isn't so much as a story to tell, but more of a daily, no, hourly, occurrence in my life: he won't hold my hand. i mean, WON'T HOLD MY HAND. as in, would rather die than hold my hand. there is no way to guide that boy. i spend an awkward amount of time chasing and then an awkward amount of time trying to hold the wriggling, wiggling boy child who can sure kick well.
boys! they are a completely foreign substance and i find myself chasing after him with a growing feeling of desperation. how long can this possibly last? perhaps i've just discovered the reason why i am so tired all the time:
i'd offer you a view from the front, but it is a side of him i see seldom these days.