Paxton is a great boy, and we love him lots. There are a couple of things, though, that have really gotten him worked up in recent months. He is becoming very particular about doing things a certain way.
Take, for example, the opening of the front door when we return home from an outing. For about five weeks, he HAD TO be the one who put the key in the door and turned the lock. Milu and I were talking today about how grateful we are that he seems to be over that one.
[This conversely works in a cute way when we leave the house; Paxton has learned that we always ask in a loud voice, "Do we have a key??" and now never fails to dutifully remind us.]
And an incident last night brought to mind the second, which is he must flush the toilet whenever it is used, but whoever. If you flush it yourself, he will reflush and you have to wash his hands anyway. And because tearing off some paper and throwing it in the toilet is what the big people do, then yes he will do it, too. But yesterday I found about ten feet's length of TP filling the bowl. And somehow, the roll itself -- though sitting innocently in its place -- had been soaked to the center. Very mysterious, these happenings.
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