Q-tips as nails...

So a little later when I was confirming that Jacob was infact the mysterious Q-tip refiller, I told him how proud I was that he took the initiative to do that. I think his pride got the better of him because he apparently thought my positive reaction to his gesture gave him permission to do what he wanted with said Q-tips.

They bacame nails. The kind you hammer into the wall to put up sheetrock. That last sentence should also help to explain why he needed half a box of kleenex and the baby lock from the bathroom cabinet as well, but I haven't quite connected the dots yet. I couldn't see what Jacob was doing but my Moms' Sixth Sense (which I now understand to be the elusive 'eyes on the back of your head' thing) reported that Jacob was taking at least 10 times the alloted two Q-tips I'd given him permission to have. By the time I arrived on the scene Jacob had put the 'nails' on the ground while he was hammering the first one in. As much as it killed me to take his playthings away, I had to. Jacob's been out of control with the 'not asking permission' thing. There is nothing in the house that is off-limits to him because given enough time and the sparsest of resources, my little MacGuiver can get himself out of (or into) anyplace and it is driving me crazy.

Jacob acted all cool when I took the Q-tips away and explained why I was doing so. Then I snuck upstairs and was back down just in time to see Jacob come out of the bathroom and burst into tears. I tried to comfort him but he was pissed because I'd stashed the Q-tips to a place up high that he's not yet figured out how to get to (but this is only because I've been saving it - now that he has a reason, it's only a matter of time before he starts stacking the chairs one upon another). He cried for half a minute and then I watched him calm down a little, a thought occuring to him, then slyly get up and climb the stairs. I knew what he was doing and I was just as smug as he because I was one step ahead of him. I'd snuck upstairs to hide the box of Q-tips because I knew he was going to go for them next.

I felt horrible because Jacob was so upset, and I really just wanted to give him all the Q-tips to have a ball with, but it was the principle of it - if only he'd asked permission. And I also felt good about myself because at least I'm still smarter than a three year-old. But then I felt bad again because I was having fun at Jacob's expense. Oh whatever, it doesn't really matter in the sceme of things. And I commend you for making it to the end of this long, boring story.