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3-year-old boys

I was a 3-year-old boy once, but can't remember it. I guess that's why we have kids so we can enjoy all the cute things they do that we can't remember doing.
My daughter, now almost 6, probably made some messes at 3, but I can't recall it being near what Jacob does. He's a terror if left alone for any time at all.

And it's usually not his toys that get broken or messed up. It's something of mine or my wife's, a project or a computer bag. Or my discs.
Last week I brought an Angel food cake home that was part of a recipe for my wife. It never made it that far as Jacob dug his fingers into it as soon as my back was turned. That time I laughed it off and dug in myself for an afternoon snack.
Other times my first reaction isn't quite as forgiving. Like when he got mud on me just as I was leaving for work yesterday. I'm not trying to be a complainer. I couldn't imagine life without boys now. But once in a while I could imagine a nap without waking up to a big mess. Boys, boys, boys!

Posted by Andy Newberry at 1:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)