Still Learning

Pookie loves the pantry. Everyday he stands next to it and whimpers loudly and annoyingly, trying to get us to open it for him. He used to do this only when we happened to be in the kitchen, but lately he has developed a new strategy. That strategy is that no matter where I am, or what I am doing, if Pookie wants to go to the pantry, he grabs as many of my fingers as he can fit in his hand, and walks me over to the kitchen, where he stares at the pantry door and howls. If I say, “Not right now, sweetie,” he throws one of his tantrums, which at this point are more comical than irritating. He scrunches his face up and shouts one-syllable sounds angrily.

“Hoh!”

“Dah!”

“Bah!”

And then he seems to twist and throw his body against unseen walls.

Here’s the thing, though. He’s not after a treat. He’s not asking for cookies, or yogurt-covered raisins, or peanuts. He wants to play in the pantry. I have baking supplies stored on the one shelf within his reach, and every time I open the pantry door, Emrick charges for the vanilla and lemon extracts, the bag of slivered almonds, or the box of food coloring vials. Sometimes he pulls these things out and hands them to me. Sometimes he inspects them and then drops them to the floor to reach for something else. Sometimes he bangs two items together and talks to himself. The other day he seized and destroyed a container of cupcake papers. It’s kind of amusing, I guess, but I don’t want to be picking up his “food toys” from the kitchen floor every day, so generally the pantry is off limits as a play space. If I need to get something from inside, I do it quickly before Pookie has time to realize his window of opportunity. My heart rate escalates and it feels like I have five seconds to do what I need to to do, or the bomb will go off.

But the other day, when Pookie was extra insistent (or maybe I was just extra tired), I just let him have at it. I opened the pantry door and let him do what he wanted to do for once. So what if I have to pick up  a few bottles of extract from the floor, or put the bag of walnuts back on the shelf? No big deal, as long as I watch him.

Except… I didn’t watch him. I don’t know WHAT I was doing. I just know that at one point he was in the kitchen alone, and when I walked in, I saw this:

White powder. Since I could see that the flour, granulated sugar, and powdered sugar were still safely stowed behind him, it took me about three seconds to realize that this was baking soda. And since my camera was right there on the kitchen table, I decided to take a picture because, you know… funny, right? Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do? Take pictures of their kids’ crazy antics? Plus, a little spilled baking soda just isn’t that big a deal. So I took a picture.

But then I got greedy. I couldn’t leave well enough alone, and I decided to snap a second picture. What I didn’t notice, though, is that little triangle of orange against the right hand side of the door in the above pic. Do you know what that is? It’s the baking soda box, and it’s still full, and still within Pookie’s reach. I did not notice any of this when I decided to get stupid with the picture-taking. And Pookie, who is starting to realize the connection between cameras and the pictures we show him of himself on the computer, decided, I suspect, to perform:

That’s right. While I was standing there with the camera in my hand, Pookie reached for the box of baking soda and continued his little shenanigan. I said that he was performing here, but actually, I think what happened is that when he saw me coming, he stowed the baking soda box. Then when he saw that my reaction was not to scold him and get to cleaning, but instead to stand there like an idiot and snap pictures, he decided to carry on with the fun.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Baking soda is cleaning agent. Did you know that? So tossed the now-empty box and made several wipes over what is now the cleanest spot in the kitchen… or would be, if I’d had some lemon juice to add to the mess.

Anyway, I am still learning.

The End.

P.S. Since posting about my speeding ticket on Monday, I have been scolded TWICE by my parents! In earnest! Can you believe that??? So for the record, I was cited for going just 5 miles over the speed limit, on a road whose speed limit changes in several places, in a spot where no other cars were immediately close. So, you know, let’s not act like I was driving through barricades, or roaring over ramps and sailing airborne across riverbeds, or narrowly missing fuel tankers as I made a tight but thrilling swerve into oncoming traffic. ‘Cause I NEVER do that stuff when Pookie is with me.

P.P.S. The photos from last post have been updated with a little something extra. Revisit that post and see if you can figure out what’s new.

P.P.P.S. Here are some pictures I took of Pookie earlier, before The Baking Soda Incident.