Candy Whore

I know that Elliott must be feeling a little more secure in his life because he no longer jumps awake on weekday mornings when I do peppering me with questions like, "Is it stay home day? Is caycare closed?" I'm shocked that we have reached a point where at least one morning a week he actually forgets to ask if caycare is closed. I draw in a deep breathe, raise my arms to Heaven, and say, "THANK YOU, GOD!"

So now I get up and go to the shower while he remains asleep. Sometimes when I get out of the shower I have to go wake him up, but other mornings he has gotten up while I'm in the shower. And that has brought with it some mischief. One morning I found him on the floor in the hall outside the bathroom door positioned in such a way that it looked like someone should come and do a chalk outline; he had fallen back asleep on the floor. Two days ago he marched into the bathroom in particularly good spirits and here is what I thought he said, "I can have some candy?" I replied that we do not eat candy for breakfast (no matter how much better I believe life would be if we did); then he clarified to me what he actually said, "I HAD some candy." And sure enough, there was chocolate on his teeth confirming his sneakiness. Stupid me had left a small bowl of Christmas candy on the buffet in the breakfast room. And he had helped himself to a Hershey's kiss. And then he thought it was really funny. So this morning, I outsmarted him. I moved the bowl on top of the fridge before I got in the shower. So I hear little feet approaching, and sure enough he requests some candy. And when I took him to the kitchen to get his juice, guess what I found. A tiny red chair positioned in front of the fridge. I could not hold back the giggle when I asked him why his chair was there. That little terd had spotted that bowl on top of the fridge and was attempting -- at less than 4 foot counting the chair -- to get to that candy.

That a boy, son. Aim high, and always aim for candy!