It was nearing nap time. Finally.
I wrestled the two toddlers upstairs and began our routine to get them settled in their beds.
Except one thing was missing…
Mickey Mouse.
This was Dylan’s most favorite furry friend. He took his Mickey with him everywhere.
…in the car.
…to the store.
…to visit family.
…to eat his snacks.
…to bed.
He was inseparable with his Mickey Mouse. If his stuffed character wasn’t by his side a breakdown was sure to happen.
And sure enough, we were there.
The room was searched. Every drawer was opened, the closet turned upside down, every bin was picked apart.
Nothing.
No Mickey.
Tears were beginning to roll down his chubby toddler cheeks as he sobbed and cried for his beloved Mickey.
We still searched.
Under the train table. Empty.
Behind the bookshelf. Bare.
In the tool bench. Clear.
He walked downstairs with one last little shred of hope that he had left him down there.
I held my breath as I knew this would not end well if Mickey wasn’t there.
Then I heard it.
“Mommy, Mickey isn’t here! I can’t find him anywhere! I need my Mickey!”
Then the cries. Big, heavy cries.
As I searched my brain for some comforting suggestion for him, the not-so-innocent little brother climbed out of his bed.
He was holding in a fit of giggles as he reached deep into his covers.
He pulled out…
Mickey Mouse.
He quickly ran over to the garbage can and stuffed Mickey deep down inside of it.
Letting his hysterical laughter slip through, he ran back to his bed like nothing had ever happened.
I stood there stunned by the trickery that the 2 year old just pulled off, while trying with all my might to not burst out laughing at it all.
Just then, the crying, weeping Dylan came back upstairs.
With red, tear stained cheeks he sobbed.
“Mommy, Mickey’s GONE!”
Kaleb laughs even harder, points at the trash can and yells “Haha Dylan, I stole your Mickey Mouse!”
Mickey was saved from the trash and Dylan turned to his brother.
“Dat’s not nice Ka-Ka. He’s MY Mickey Mouse! He doesn’t go in the trash!”
Dylan went to sleep tightly holding his rescued Mickey.
Kaleb went to sleep laughing at his antics.
I went downstairs completely bewildered at the sneaky little 2 year old.
I’m really in for some trouble between these two in a few years, aren’t I?
.
.
Kimberly
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Hi, my name is Kimberly! I am a wife of 1 and mom to 4. I'm a social media addict and book lover. This blog is a raw and honest look at life through my eyes. I capture the moments as I fumble through motherhood, marriage, and my new graphic design career. I am sometimes funny, a bit sarcastic, and always sleep deprived.
Twitter: AlisonSWLee
says:
Yup, YOU ARE IN TROUBLE. Hehe.
Oh my… you are definitely in for some trouble with those two! I can only imagine what they’ll get into as they get older.
Wow!
Here’s a “wine of the week” club membership in advance, dear. I think you may need it.
Twitter: corp2domestic
says:
Ha ha I would have had a hard time not laughing too…b/c although you don’t want Mickey in the trash one must say that was pretty clever of the toddler LOL!
You had me laughing! Oh my gosh, such personality at such an early age. You have a fun future ahead
Oh my gosh. This sounds like something my 3yo would do. But dare take her things? OH NO.
Twitter: queenofchaosmom
says:
You have virtually met Nico and Tommy so you pretty much know what you have in store but the best part is that it was the younger giving it to the older. That almost never happens here but when it does, I can’t help but giggle and think, “Good for him!”
Oh my you are in for it, lol. My son love, love, loves his Michey. And if he couldn’t find his I think he would be devistated.
Twitter: rustilyn
says:
uh oh. with a capital T sweets!
Um, dude. Layla is just like Kaleb. We’re both in trouble.
My youngest has the same attachment to a stuffed giraffe. Both boys have the same one and the only time the older boy cares about his is when the younger one can’t find his. Then the older one flaunts his and make his brother cry. It’s lovely!!
Ugh! This is timely because we have been searching high and low today for Lucas’ Tow Mater. I hope it doesn’t hinder bedtime, but it just might. Sigh!