Harry came back from my parents' house-- a place where all the cabinets slide and all the doors are pocket doors-- with the uncanny ability to open every cabinet, door, and drawer in the house. I think he may have spent the whole 2 weeks observing how their doors worked and mentally noting the differences between their weird slidey doors and his cool hingey doors, so that when he got home, he could open everything and watch his mommy come unhinged.
"Hey, I've never noticed this cabinet before."
"Hmmmm. Looks to be full of yummy cords."
"Maybe I can just pull this handle..."
"Yep! Damn I'm good!"
"No no no yourself, Mama. I was shutting the door, duh."
Why take pictures of this event? Why not maybe, you know, STOP HIM? 2 words for ya: Permissive parenting. Also, are cords and cable boxes dangerous? Who woulda thunk?
Another trick he learned? Standing at the gate and throwing shit over it-- toys, shoes, wipes, trash, sippies, whatever he's got in his fat fists. Like this, where the offending object is a penny loafer:
Love his no-nonsense look here.
A job well done.
Yikes-- he was in his room, pleasantly throwing books off his shelf, but I just heard a happy little voice murmur "No no no" followed by a crashy-type noise. He appears to be okay, but still-- it's like I should be watching him or something!