Stealth and Sneakery

How does a little boy who is so loud he wakes his sister up from any and all naps able to also be so quiet that I don't know which room he is in and what he is doing? Seriously, think with me, how does a two year old learn stealth? Isn't that something that only Navy Seals or Army Rangers really know how to do well? And don't they spend torturous months and years perfecting this unsettling ability to catch their prey by sneakery? Yet, somehow, my two year old is born with this gift. Baffling.

Note: Sneakery is an adverb. It means, tricky sneaking.

Jacob is too old for the squeaky sneakers. And a bell around his neck would be frowned upon. So how am I supposed to track this little man who would rather use one of his many plastic hammers to try and hammer a real nail or screw into my wall than play with actual toys. I'm not kidding either. #1- I'm not sure where he keeps coming up with new screws and nails on a daily basis. I guess we will find out when some piece of furniture collapses when he removes the final screw. #2- You should see my walls. Little holes in nearly every room of the house. You see now why it's imperitive that I follow his movements. For the sake of the walls, people! That and I'm scared Jacob might want to see if he can hammer a nail in Kaylen's head.

I've finally stumbled upon (literally) how to keep track of my sweet man-child. I just follow the trail. See, if I start at the place I last saw him...

....and keep looking for signs, I'll be able to follow a trail that is about as subtle as a "kick me" sign on some poor loser's back.

Abandoned screwdriver...

Discarded firetruck....

Forgotten nail...

(by the way, these are not what he is trying to hammer into the wall, he knows these aren't real nails)

Vacated shoes.

Usually once I get to the shoes, my little boy isn't very far away. With stinky feet.

He can't help it, the Crocs make his feet sweat.



I hope this baby boy of mine always leaves me a trail so I can find him wherever he may be.