The problem with a nickname

There are lots of things people call their children. Boo boo, nugget, sweetie, peanut, munchkin… but I call my little guy monkey. Right from the start I have called him that. He even kind of reminds me of a monkey. I do call him his name, but monkey is the one that only I call him. Tonight during bath time he was putting away all his little animals on the side of the tub. I asked him where was the monkey? We were missing the monkey. He looked around the empty tub in the cutest manner and then pointed to himself and said “Right here!” 

Nicknames are cute, and they stick. But sometimes they mean more than just a name. 

A few weeks ago I bought Big Brother a write erase board and write erase crayons* for the car. This seemed like a great idea, how much trouble could he get in to. He was strapped into a car seat with a 5 point harness… And so we have learned another lesson. Mr. Smarty Pants decided that the write on board wasn’t what he wanted to draw on. So instead he took off his socks and shoes, put the crayon in between his toes and proceeded to draw on the back of D’s seat. Never. Saw. That. Coming. 

Since then we have noticed all the really monkey things he does. While driving the car, all the sudden there was a loud whooshing noise that definitely startled me. Can you guess what it was?

It was my crafty little man opening the window with his feet!

What’s the silliest thing you’ve done with your feet?