Tuesday, August 16, 2011
You guys, I live with a Roomba. He never stops moving and is constantly sucking up things you don't want him to. He has identified the boys' best crumb-scattering ground, the shelf where the crayons are, and the source of all the small pieces of plastic by some heretofore unknown sixth sense. And because he is the third kid, and the first two kids need immediate access to the bathroom at all times, he has unrestricted access to the whole first floor (and God help me when he figures out the stairs).
I think the cute little baby-potato stage is over (I mean, the cute part's not over, what's not cute about finding an infant with a forest green Crayola hanging out of his mouth like a Lucky Strike when you come back from spending thirty seconds in the bathroom?). Next you're going to tell me they don't take three naps forever either.
The boys know to keep toys with small pieces in the playroom. I'm thinking some kind of retinal scan access system is in order.