My Stuff(es).

Lately my Little Man has become obsessively attached to a large pile of treasures (err crap) that he refers to as "my stuffes." Everywhere we go, "my stuffes" has to go with us. We eat breakfast, lunch and dinner with it sitting on the table next to us. It sits on the floor while he takes a bath, and when we leave the house a backpack full of his "stuffes" is usually hoisted over my shoulder. I have to be honest, while I will happily carry his booty everywhere we go, I really haven't taken the time to look at what his "stuffes" actually consists of.

Well, that was until last night.

Last night after I put him to bed I decided to take a peek at what was so important to my little man that it could never leave his side. At first glance this stuffes looked like your usual pile of kiddie junk, but upon closer inspection I found that some of his stuffes actually consisted of some of my stuff(es). Admittedly, I was halfway amused, and halfway horrified.

You can be the judge of which is the appropriate reaction.

Contents that I expected to find included:
  • The Woody and Buzz he just got for his 3rd birthday.
  • The entire Potato Head family, including all attachments and accessories.
  • Some of the missing trees from his train table (yes, I am the mother that glued all of the parts to the table, apparently that did not stop him from pulling them off.)
  • A couple of trains that he has found on the street over the last few months (of course he wouldn't like the ones that I actually purchased for him... that would be too easy!)
What I did not expect to find, and actually have been looking everywhere for are:
  • A tape measure.
  • A screwdriver.
  • A wine opener.
Beyond the fact that these things are somewhat dangerous to my Little Man, and my furniture, I also learned another important lesson:

No more home improvement projects with my little helper, or more so no more drinking while doing home improvement projects with my little man. 
This morning he was pretty upset when he noticed some of his stuffes were missing. I broke down and gave him the tape measure back, and a "play" screw driver in lieu of the real deal.

The wine opener? Nope, that one is right back where it belongs. Could you imagine explaining that one to a stranger?

Note to self: Re-instal the broken safety locks in the kitchen.