My Littlest Shitbird

Elliott. You are such a little stinker. You have that smile that you flash that anyone can take a look at and just immediately know that you're up to something. Its also a smile that makes anyone forgive you for the trouble that you get into and the shit that you've done.

Take for instance the past two evenings and today at naptime. You're now in your big boy bed, in the new bedroom with Aidan, preferring the top bunk over the bottom (hey...whatever works!). You're so stealth. We thought that you were sleeping, but an hour later, a small noise will give it away and we'll go upstairs to discover you wide awake, playing. In the case of nighttime, both times it was with the light on and Aidan was sound alseep just inches away. And Norah was sound asleep down the hall in her big girl bed, as well.
You know you're not supposed to do it. Every day, you get into bed and say, "I stay in bed. I don't get up...dat vewy naw-nee." Yet, you still do it. Aye.

Today you tried bringing a dead worm into the house. Now that is just gross. You and your sister are just loving all the worms, dead and alive, around here lately from all the recent rains. I guess I wasn't paying attention when you picked this dead crusty up and tried bringing it in. I saw something foreign in your hand and asked you to leave the stick outside. You threw the worm out the door and dropped it in front of my feet. EW! Gross! Boys. Yuck.