Tenacious C

I've been musing about Casey's tenacity lately. Pernicious. Obstinate. Dogged. Yup. That's my boy. I like referring to him as Tenacious C because it rhymes with Tenacious D, and I'm not all that familiar with them, but I like Jack Black well enough.

Anyway, it all started when he pulled that chair up to the door and unlocked the high-up, hotel-like lock to escape. That was just before the fires.

But then, ever since Halloween, his tenacity has persisted. Casey is, fortunately, not a big candy-eater. But he does love MnMs. Loves might even be an understatement. Last week he absconded with packs of MnMs twice. Both times while I was in the bathroom. The first time, he found the special-edition bag of orange-flavored MnMs I purchased in New York and gave them to Marcie. Marcie brought them to me and Jason right away to show off her new-favorite breakfast food. Of course we confiscated the bag. But when I went to check and see how she got them, I noticed a kitchen chair pulled up to the counter, and a flashlight sitting on the counter top edge. The flashlight was still on, and it was pointed at the portion of the counter where the MnMs had been hidden -- behind and underneath a couple loaves of bread.

We chuckled. Did a better job of hiding the candy. And went on our merry way.

Then, a few days later, I came out of the bathroom and saw Casey sitting on the couch, eating a mini-pack of MnMs. It was morning. When I asked what he was doing, he sheepishly responded, "Eating BaNems."

A quick search of the kitchen explained how he'd found them. Again, the chair was pulled up to the counter. A pair of scissors was left open on the counter, and pieces of MnM wrapper were spread across the counter. On the other side of the kitchen, the pantry baby-proof lock had been unlocked, and the candy bag had been breached. I didn't know if I should high five him or scold him. I mean, of course candy for breakfast is a bad idea. But . . . wow. He opened the baby lock. He found the scissors and he used scissors to open the bag without even hurting himself. Of course we had a conversation about the scissors, and they have been removed from the counter. But I'm still impressed.

And the tenacity doesn't end with candy. Yesterday Casey woke up while I was in the shower and asked if he could take a shower, too. As he got in, I was shaving my legs. He asked if that was like how Daddy shaves his face, and I said it was. When I was ready to get out of the shower, I put my razor up on the top shelf of the shower tower and left him in the shower. I was right outside the shower door. I opened the glass door maybe 3 minutes later to let him know he'd have to get out in 2 minutes, and there he was-- squatting on the shower floor with a bar of soap in one hand and a disposable razor in the other.

I have no idea where he got the razor. But he was attempting to shave his legs. He'd nicked his shin in the process, and there was some blood. But he was in no pain whatsoever and he treated the band-aid like a treat.

Needless to say, I've scoured the bathroom for other signs of disposable, potential injury-inflicting items (I didn't find any). And now that I know he can open baby locks and navigate the house with a kitchen chair, I'm wondering what I can do to keep our cleaning supplies safely out of reach. I don't think Casey would eat them, but I wouldn't put it past him to leave them out where Marcie might happen upon them. As a child I was notorious for accidentally poisoning myself-- and I just don't want to risk it.

It's neat to observe Casey's problem-solving skills evolve as he becomes more tenacious. But it's scary, too.