So, it was only a matter of time before she took her safety scissors and gave Caleb a little haircut.
Thankfully, his hair is so fine, it's unnoticeable. Next up, I'm sure he'll get glued to the floor.
Speaking of Caleb, he's at THAT age wherein everything that's not a toy is a toy:
He's opening everything he can, dumping out anything he can, throwing things that are NOT trash into the trash, and taking what IS trash out of the trash. Plus, he's climbing. It's a joy.
Back to his sister: Norah's birthday is on Friday, and it's something she's been talking about for...oh...about 6 months now. The other day in the car, Jerry asked her: "How old are you gonna be on your birthday?"
She replied, correctly, with: "3!"
And he followed up with, "3 and sassy, right?"
Her: "NO! I am NOT sassy!"
No, no, of course not.
This morning, Caleb was biting the chair in the living room (also part of the joys of his age: the intro to hitting and biting). I told him to stop biting the chair. Norah piped up with: "No, Caleb, we don't bite chairs. We only bite food." Then, she paused and continued with: "And, sometimes each other."
Yesterday afternoon, Norah was putting some change in her piggy bank, with Caleb assisting. Jerry and I were in the other room, and we heard a CRASH! Piggy pieces everywhere; coins scattered. Norah was near tears.
Caleb was just trying to gobble up as much change as he could. I assume he'll poop those pennies out sometime this afternoon...
And, speaking of money. On Monday, I was in the kitchen and he comes toddling in holding a $1. Assuming he'd been riffling through my purse, I take the $1 from him and go find what I was sure was going to be a disassembled purse. But, surprisingly, my purse was intact. Huh. I had no clue where he'd gotten that money from, but I shrugged, put the $1 in my wallet and went back to making dinner. A bit later, he comes in the kitchen again; this time, he's got a $1 in each fist!
WTF? Did he find a secret money stash? And, if so, are there $20s in there?
Turns out, he'd found some loot stowed in one of Norah's purses. Where she'd squirreled that money from, I have no idea. But I can tell you this: I am now $5 richer!
Lastly, and perhaps most hilarious: Over the weekend, one day, Jerry farted. (Not that that's news: Our house suffers from serious air pollution because of his foul ass.) But, this was a serious fart -- a loud, rumbly one -- and Norah (who thinks farts are pretty much the funniest thing in existence, which, c'mon, they ARE funny) laughs and says:
"Whoa, Daddy! We're gonna have to check your underwear!"