danger magnet

That Cass sure is addicted to danger. Name a dangerous object, any object...he wants it. If he shouldn't have it, he's attracted to it. If he REALLY shouldn't have it, he's already got his chubby 'lil hands on a stash.

Just this weekend, he's come across no less then 28219 dangerous items. Things like safety pins, a box of exacto blades, bottles of bleach water or other cleaning agents, cat poo, paint trays...he is such a boy. But he's also a sweetie, because every time he finds something dangerous and then actually manages to get his hands on it, he immediately brings it to me - he runs up with the item in his hands, and kinda throws it in my lap or the nearest flat surface, and then looks up at me ever so innocently as if to say "Here Mama, you left out the glue gun so I brought it to you."

Such a helpful little monkey :)

There are, of course, times when he doesn't immediately hand over the goods. I might find him under the kitchen table, or perhaps behind the green couch, being very, veeeery quiet. That's when I know something's up. Anyway, when I ask for the item and he hands it over (which he always does, bless his heart), you would think the world was ending - tears, screams, absolute sobbing. Sometimes I can't help but giggle - it's just too funny.

Kinda like this. I believe I had removed some pens from his possession.

But 25 seconds later, he's found an (hopefully) age-appropriate toy and is back to being my little giggling goon.

Ah, toddlerhood - so fickle, so fun :)