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…
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.
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.
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…
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?