Lately Gray's happy place is the bathroom sink. He climbs up there any time the bathroom door is open. A lot of the time, this is right after baths. He has absolutely no interest in a towel. He climbs up on the toilet, nudey-booty, up onto the counter and then sits in the sink and jokes with himself in the mirror, and pulls the sink plug rod up and down, or clean out of the sink [it doesn't really work.] He will stay in their upwards of 20 minutes if I let him! Happy as a clam.
The boys have also been obsessed with shoes, the past couple weeks. Most mornings, I get them out of their cribs and change their bums right away. I get them a clean shirt, but I let them go pantsless unless we're going somewhere. If we're just staying home I have no desire to pull their pants off and put them back on at every diaper change. Call it lazy, call it efficient. It's not changing any time soon. haha. However, the boys have a little shoe basket in their room, and without fail, the very next thing they do is run over to it pick out a "thoo" and run over to me to put it on their foot. This happens until all 4 feet are covered, and then some. How do you reason with an 18-month-old who already has tennis shoes on his feet that is shoving a flip-flop in your face and demanding "thoo! thoo!" But taking off one of the tennis shoes is absolutely not an option. How dare you think that! haha. They crack me up. [Gray was the one sad about not having a third foot, just for the record.]
Something has recently gotten into Nash and he refuses to get out of bed unless I am ready to wrap him in his blanket and snuggle him in the rocking chair for a minute or two. I truly don't mind it one bit. I love that he is a snuggle bug. And all too soon, his little head pops off my shoulder and he slides off my lap to go find the shoe basket. But some mornings he asks for "Harry" and we read Harry, the dirty dog cover to cover at least twice.
The other day, we were up in the playroom and I was trying to convince Nash that there were other books to read besides Harry. He walked over, picked up a book of Row, Row, Row your boat, pointed to a duck on one of the pages and started "cack! cack! cack!" ing. I have never asked him what sound a duck makes. As far as I know, neither has Cameron. Someone taught him that, but it definitely wasn't me. Here's looking at you, grandparents! Or maybe one of the cousins we visited a couple weeks ago? Either way, it made my day. Smart cookie.