Things have happened on my watch.
Unsanitary things. Unexpected things.
Today Declan picked up bird poop. Yesterday he put the cap from a beer bottle in his mouth.
Crayons have been used to “decorate” the wall. Dishware has been spritzed with extra color, too.
I told our nanny earlier this week to keep an eye out for any unusual behavior because Declan had eaten something at the park. I thought it was dirt, but I couldn’t be sure.
There are property crimes that I may be an accomplice to. Colleen’s comb disappeared about a week ago. I may have been “supervising” when it was “reassigned” to its new place, probably in one of Declan’s drawers or baskets. It’s been three long months since I’ve been able to account for all of the blocks in a set. Even longer since I’ve seen all the letters in a magnetic alphabet. Not every appliance in our home has all its working parts. Declan is not a suspect, exactly, but he is a person of interest. Some or all of these disappearances happened on my watch.
It’s not like it’s a total free-for-all. I’m teaching him stuff, too. This month, I taught him how to pay for coffee. First you reach into Dad’s wallet. Then you grab the credit card. Then you hand it over to the first person you see. This can’t end badly at all.
Today he made me proud. When it came time to pay, he extended his hand toward the barista. It was empty. No credit card. No cash. It didn’t work this time, but we’ll try again. A few days ago, Declan pulled money out of their tip jar and tried to pass it off as our payment. I’m thinking of sending him to Wall Street.
So these are the things that are happening during the six hours or so I spend alone with him every day. Bird poop fingers and attempts to stiff our hard-working local coffee shop employees. Good thing he’s an only child (if you don’t count me).