Yago is obsessed with openning the front door. He’s ready to make a run for it.
I spend a lot of time searching for my keys at inopportune moments. He has his favorite drop off points; the book basket, the pot and pan cupboard, the kiddie pool. But sometimes, Yago figures I need a good challenge. He is concerned I have nothing interesting to stimulate my Mommy mind. Some folks stay sharp with sukodus or cross words. Others study philosophy or entertain witty friends. I puzzle over “WHERE THE $#!!!$% ARE MY KEYS?
I have found them inside a thermos, in the kitchen cupboard. The toilet? Obviously. Today they turned up in his dad’s djembe drum.
All the mental gymnastics is not having the desired effect on my intelligence. I keep giving him my keys.
A few notes about these photos:
- Yes, my walls are painted hot pink. One of the benefits of a color-blind husband.
- Yes, Yago stands on a chair. It keeps him quiet for a few moments which is safer than driving me batty.
- No, he never wears clothes. It’s stinking hot and we don’t have carpet.
Do I have time to dose myself with dark chocolate before he figures out that latch?
Stay tuned for action shots of me chasing a naked boy through the lobby.