I recently read The Castaways by Elin Hilderbrand in which a character says that the population can be divided into two groups of people: Cops and Robbers. There are those who are natural rule followers, and those who are natural bend-the-rules types. I don't necessarily agree that it's so black and white, and I'm definitely not about to peg my boys' personalities at these young ages....but..........if FORCED to assign my boys to a certain category....I wouldn't even have to think about it. Evan is my Cop; Max, for sure, is my Robber.
Today's trip to the grocery store confirms this:
We were sitting at a stoplight watching the trucks drive past. I started to put my hair up into a ponytail when I heard an almost-frantic, "Mommy!" from the backseat.
"What, Evan?!" I answered, turning around to see what the emergency could be.
"Why you don't have two hands on the wheel?!"
"Um, well, we're not driving now. I was using both hands to put my hair up."
"You need two hands when you're driving safe."
Okay. Who's been taking this kid to driver's ed?
So we get to the store and get through our shopping (with only one bathroom stop today! Hooray!). We're just about through the checkout lane when Max started to get pretty antsy. He'd been munching on Cheerios, but I had put them away in an effort to maintain some sort of appetite for lunch. So I picked him up out of the cart and was holding him while the cashier finished checking us out.
You know when a baby stares so deep into your eyes that you get locked in? Like, physically? You can't possibly be the one to end the staring contest, so you don't even think about looking away. He was doing that. And doing his Gentle Talking, "da da daaaaaayyyaaa," and being just about the cutest little baby in the entire world. Then, THEN, he started to touch my face so gently and sweetly and I couldn't get over his cuteness! I was just staring at him saying, "Oh, yeah?" to all of his Gentle Talking, and getting all teary-eyed over his sweet, cuddly, cuteness when.....
I felt his other hand reaching behind my back into the diaper bag!
So I turn my head to look and HE'S GOT HIS HOT LITTLE HAND ON THE CHEERIOS CONTAINER.
I'm not making this up.
Who knows what he was thinking, but all signs point to: "Distract the lady with cuteness while you reach in and get the goods!"
We get home from the store and I'm trying to put the groceries away. I'm "watching" the kids, yes, but sort of one-eyed. Evan, I don't ever have to worry about, and sure enough, he spent the time quietly playing with his electronic alphabet game.
I turn from the fridge to peek at what Max is up to, and see him, very busy, at the art supply cabinet. The very low, easy-to-reach cabinet full of very enticing and very not-for-babies things such as markers, paint, glue, and scissors. The cabinet which, up until this point, has not had child-safety locks on it because Evan Asks Permission Before Opening It.
Time to babyproof!
....before this kid takes off with the heirloom silver.