Ohhhh, George.

     Recently I posted on Facebook that, it was in George's best interest that I had to work that day. By 7:00 AM, I had had it with the child. No charming smiles or big blue not so innocent eyes were melting me that day. I stomped out of the  house fuming. Because, in the last week or so he has:

Taken a Sharpie marker to the (stainless steel) refrigerator, the hardwood floors in the living room, the stair posts, the kitchen table. AND benches. Both of them. The TV screen, The wall paper, several books, and important papers, his face, arms and belly, the couch (You know, the one I am still paying for????) and assorted toys. I probably missed a few things in there.

He has also: dug several different kinds of light bulbs out of the kitchen cupboard, the one above the counters. Where the light bulbs are kept on the top shelf, out of normal children's reach,  and then thrown them down the stairs, to see if/how they break. It seems the bigger they are, the worse the damage. The night light bulbs fare best. It takes a few tumbles and a pretty hard throw, to get them to break.

Thrown matchbox cars at his siblings

purposely erased the only game I play - 557 levels and more than 2 million points - off the ipad. It's gone. He's grounded from it indefinitely.

Knocked over an entire gallon pitcher of iced tea all over the dining room

Poured bottles of water in large puddles in several different rooms, "Just because"

Cheerfully taken his siblings' Halloween candy and, either eaten it, or handed it out to whomever it doesn't belong to.

Tormented his brother at 5:30 in the morning, by turning the TV off, and standing in front of it. Causing unholy shrieking and screaming by Joe, thus waking up the entire household

Informed all and sundry that he could really use an ice cold beer. (Thank you, Blake Shelton, and your "Boys 'Round Here" song.) Insisting he is a man, and should be allowed to drink one occasionally.

     I could probably go on and on for some time. Usually, the child manages to pull it all off with such charm and charisma, that he gets off pitifully easily. Not lately. My older sister thinks he is the coolest thing ever, and offered to take him. I said she would not only send him back, but bill me for the damages, as well.

     Yesterday I took a mental health and catch up on laundry day off of work. George and I had a serious discussion about Santa Claus.
    
     "Mom. If you don't know where to put the Christmas tree this year, you can put it in my room. And all the presents under my bed."
     "Oh yeah? You are aware that Santa only brings presents to GOOD kids, right?"

     Enthusiastic nodding, "Yep!"

     "And, do you think you have been really really good this year?"

     "Yep!" More nodding.

     "Soooooo, what do you think Santa will think about all the marker all over the house? Or the stamp prints all the way up the stair wall? You know, the green stamp marks you made aaaallll the way up the stairs?"

     "Get me some tape, and I will cover it up. Santa will never know. And, I will give him extra cookies."


     The thought you are all thinking right now is, "Where the heck are the parents, while this child is getting into all this trouble? Your 3 year old cannot do this all, unless he is being completely neglected! What the heck kind of parents are  you?? It's a wonder the poor child hasn't fallen off the counter, or cut himself on the broken light bulb glass!"

The thing is; We ARE there! usually within a few feet, or right in the next room, or even in the same room. He is just so QUIET about it, that you don't see it, till it's too late. And, a lot of times, these things happen when I am not at home. His favorite lines in times of trouble are "A NINJA did it, Mom!!! I SAW him!" or, "You didn't SEE me do it, so, you can't know I did it." Followed by: "You did not get any snuggles today. Lets go snuggle now!"

     He isn't ALL bad though. He knew I recently had a bad day at work, and not only let me play with his monster trucks, but got up no less than 4 times throughout the night, to make sure I was okay. "Mom. Mom! MOM!! Are you asleep? I think I should come in bed with you, so you don't have a bad night. Is your day better? Are you still having a bad day? I will make you feel better. I just need to... MOM! MOVE. OVER!!!! I AM TRYING TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER!!! There. Okay. I am all snuggled in now. Feel better, Mom?"
     "Mom. I have to go potty now."
     "Uuuggghh. Then go downstairs and go potty."
     "You need to come with me."
     "Uggghhh."
 I can only imagine what the teen years with this child will be like. My goal is to just get him to adulthood on the right side of the law, and in one piece.