I love Yaks. I really do. He's a sweetheart. He calls me "mom" instead of "ma-ma" or "mommy", and he'll bring you something he just can't figure out and say, "har du doo." (hard to do). But why doesn't he listen to me? His latest interest is the spice cupboard. He's discovered that he can push a chair over to the counter(a no-no), climb up (another no-no), open the cupboard, select a shiny container, select a spout from three flip-top choices and POUR spices all over the kitchen (NO, NO, NO!). The boy needs constant supervision. Our first mishap was with onion powder. Onion powder poured into the toaster. Nothing like an onion-y flavor added to your cinnamon raisin muffin! Then it was steak seasoning. JB had to clean that one up. Today after I changed his diaper, sent him downstairs to find Boo, sorted ONE load of laundry, I went downstairs to find that the spice of the day was Thyme. Thyme...in...the...oven(oh, my blood pressure)! I can't tell you how many times I have firmly admonished him that little kids DO NOT OPEN THE OVEN! "We heeded them not." Green, powdery goodness had dusted the oven, the drawer underneath, all my cookie sheets, muffin tins and finally the floor. I don't know why it's taken me so long to just MOVE the spices to a higher cupboard, but it's happening. TODAY. I'm just glad that the oven wasn't on. And that the spice wasn't curry.
There's this great picture book that fits him to a T. It's called "No David" about all the things this kids' mom used to yell at him for doing. The final page says "Yes David, I love you." And I love you too, Yakkers.