Childlocks entered our world a couple of months ago.
Sometimes Ian will still play with his toys, but only if he can pull every single one out at once and cover the entire living room with them.
Grandpa’s lap was clearly made as a booster seat to help little boys reach the steering wheel. Ian doesn’t even want to leave home anymore so long as he can “drive.” God help us if he ever finds a key laying out after learning how to insert and turn it over.
This same fascination prevents us from making it inside the doors at Tractor Supply Company. We want to go shop… Ian wants to drive… guess who wins.
The doctor’s office is just another jungle gym full of possibilities.
Those warning labels on the shopping carts, the ones that say to strap children in and never allow them to stand in the basket? Ian can’t read yet, and doesn’t believe us when we read it to him. He thinks we’re misreading the instructions, and he prefers a better position for digging through my groceries.
This is a new habit he started Saturday Aunt Wanda gave him a rocking chair, but clearly adults have been using rocking chairs incorrectly all along.
Just as we’ve misused the dishwasher for so long.
This is what happens when you turn your back while feeding the horses:
And when you’re husband finds him and reminds you that those were the last clean jeans in Ian’s dresser…
And so goes Ian’s day until his batteries run dead.
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