the story really began yesterday.
that's when the boy employed the skills he learned at the playground climbing wall to attempt to scale our built-in book shelves.
luckily, he slipped on the second shelf and landed square on his keister.
later in the day, he used his inner monkey to convert the box that kept his blocks into a step stool for reaching another shelf and taking the jar containing his mama's dried bridal bouquet petals and sprinkling them into his toybox.
(he was lucky the box -- not resting on its wide mouth, but on its tapered side -- didn't slip out from under him.)
you'd think those would be his major accomplishments in mischief for the week.
as the boy got his breakfast appetizer going this morning on the cat's perch, none of us had any idea what this day would have in store.
after a hearty meal of eggs, banana and oatmeal, the boy set after the cat, invariably grabbing her haunches or her tail.
otto had about as much as she could take when she wheeled and nipped him on the forearm.
the boy licked his wound before starting after her again. this time, he was grabbing her by both ears and yanking as if he were trying to pull them off.
so i took him outside.
before long, we were on the back porch, where he went for a bag of charcoal ashes, a can of insecticide and my bike chain.
we wound up in the front yard again, where he dragged the broom he was wielding like a scepter out back.
we visited our next door neighbor and he knocked on their door. i was surprised when one of her boys answered. i laughed and waved as he shut it.
with not a little protest, he was taken indoors again. he was due some hydration after our time in the mid-morning hotbox that's been the kanawha valley these past few weeks.
i set him in front of the fridge while i diluted some milk for him.
in the few seconds it took to pour into his sippy cup and close the fridge, made his way toward the cat as she ate.
as i lifted him off the floor, he snatched at the dish, spilling its contents.
i set him over the baby gate with his cup, while i went to clean the spill.
the brown handprint on the floor did not bode well.
mama was out of the shower and greeting the boy when i asked if she saw poop on his hands.
yup.
then i saw the turdlet that must have been stuck to otto's fur before it dropped to the floor.
a change of clothes and a bath later, we were headed for town. i laid on the couch in a fetal position until i had to get dressed.
he was actually pretty good in the backpack as i visited the newsroom to do a little work, went to the bank with his mom, then paid property taxes at the courthouse.
we picked mama up at the library, then ran into our buddy jon, who got married a few weeks ago. this was his first time to meet the boy.
once home, we ate lunch -- he ate two sausage links, a slice of cheese and half a box of raisins. a pretty big-ass meal for him.
he napped and i tried to nap.
while in bed, i missed him waking up, then clambering up the dining room chair, before finally climbing and kneeling on the table.
such progress for only a day and a half. at least was tired enough after supper that he went to bed without much fuss.
so ... to recap. in about 36 hours, the boy:
- learned to climb shelves
- learned to create makeshift stepstools
- lost all fear of the cat
- handled varieties of dirt, poison and grease
- displayed lightning grab reflexes
- smashed poop that wasn't his
- summitted his first dining room table
i can hear roller coaster chains clanking.
(in his defense, he also ate three really good meals, spoke on the phone to both grandmothers, behaved well in a newsroom, branch bank and two county government buildings, had a nice, 2-hour nap and mostly slept through the night. i'll take it.)
Via Flickr:
otto is right to eye the boy on her perch. he would later be chasing her around the living room and pullng her tail and ears. she let him know that wasn't cool.
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