Exploits of a Two-Year-Old

Children are amazing people. The younger they are, the more they amaze me. Not only do they say the darndest things, but they frequently exceed my expectations. For an example, I will attempt to describe for you a few of my two-year-old's most recent conquests.

Number six likes my car. I don't know why, or what exactly he finds so fascinating about it, but he is drawn toward it like a fly to honey. But more specifically, he wants to be in the car when I am NOT. He likes to climb in there, lock the doors, and push all the buttons. Knowing that hot weather was on the way, I started locking my car so that he would not unknowingly cook his little brain while draining the car's battery.

That only stopped him once.

He soon dug through my purse and found those special door unlocking keys... I wasn't worried. He's only two, right? There are a lot of keys on my keyring, but knowing that two-year-olds have the magical ability to make things disappear forever, I watched for a while as he struggled to shove the wrong key into the lock and then took the keys and put them away. "No," says I. "These are Mommy's keys. Don't touch."

Half an hour later, Six has locked himself in my car, my ring of keys dangling from his chubby little fingers. Hmmm...

To keep things brief, Six has also pushed toys up next to the car to climb in through the open window and is now no longer content to merely push buttons. He starts the car, too. Just wait another month and I'll be writing about how a two-year-old wrecked the car before my 16-year-old.

Cars are not Six's only weakness, however. I would like to point out that he has many other interests as well. When he's not driving, Six likes to play with the cat food. It must taste good; he keeps eating it, but at least he shares with the cat and dog, too. He likes to empty things: cabinets, my purse, tissue boxes, floss containers, packages of diapers... Strangely, toys don't interest him much.

He also likes to jump on furniture, but only after all the cushions have been stripped and tossed across the room in all different directions. He likes to climb on said furniture, and up to the highest thing he can find so that he might uncover a new, full something that needs emptying.

Six is a full-time warrior, though his name changes from "Batman/Spiderman/Superman" (depending on which pajamas he wears) to "The Adventures of Link" or to something else as equally glamorous but which I have failed to recall. He packs weapons in his shirt and pants, builds them with Legos, and imagines them out of thin air (when need is dire). Enemies beware, Six is looking for you.

When he is not hanging out of second-story windows, ripping up the screens instead of taking a nap, Six is mostly a good boy--sweet and loving and cute enough to make you cry. He does NOT want to be house broken, though we talk about it every day. He really likes those potty words. "Mommy, I pooped! Hahahahahaha." It must be a funny joke. He laughs every time.

I know there's more to say, but honestly, I'm tired. Can't figure why. I'll leave off with the book I read and call it a good day.


Gifts by Ursula K. Le Guin--

Meh. And that's the nicest thing I can say about it. Le Guin took a good concept and made it as dull as can be, for 274 pages. I'm surprised I read it all.