Forrest has become quite the little scavenger lately. He searches the house each day for interesting items (“interesting items” usually means a sippy cup—he finds beverages most interesting) and stores them around the house in cunning hiding spots. The other night after he went to bed, I spent half an hour searching for the sippy cup full of milk I knew he hadn’t finished . . . it finally turned up the next morning, still full of milk, inside one of my galoshes. Very sneaky—I’m always finding things in strange places. I was folding laundry yesterday and a contact case fell out of a shirt. I have my suspicions about who put a contact case in the laundry basket.
For reasons clear only to a toddler, this pitcher has become a favorite toy recently. It has also become a favorite hiding spot, and the poor child seems truly surprised when we’re able to easily find the treasures he’s hidden inside it.
I spent a good amount of time the other day searching for my dry shampoo . . . why did I waste time looking through the bathroom drawers and cabinets when I should have checked his little red wagon first?
This concerns me slightly in planning for a second child someday . . . where will I find his poor, hypothetical future sibling hidden?