He can be a terror. He was on Thursday. His oldest brother came in a close second.
After much reasoning, discussion, and an added grammar lesson (to show him what "a lot" of work really looked like), he got off to a wonderful start on Friday.
And the dear, sweet, baby? He was suspiciously vacant. It took me a while to realize that it had been quiet for too long...alarmed I ran into the living room and found this:
It's a two year old puppy. Sitting in the dog crate. Happily panting.
A short while later he's missing again. This time Ella alarmed me by yelling, "Jojo has (what sounded like) SHOT!" I only half paid attention, knowing we don't have any needles around the house. After yelling again, I realized she was saying 'salt'. Brilliant.
Dinner prep seemed a little easier than usual. No toddler clinging to my leg, begging for food...drink...Bob the Builder...it wasn't until I turned away from the stove that I noticed what he had been up to.