1) the other day he came home from Mother's Day Out with some unusually baggy pants. Turned out he had no less than 42 small rocks in his pocket. I mean, really? 42?
2) last week he managed to roll down his car window while we were out driving. he then proceeded to try to lean his head out and announce proudly, "I spit Mommy!"
3) he already has a swiss army knife. not really, don't freak out. but, he uses his beloved blanket as the equivalent of one - it has a 100 different purposes. he uses it to blow his nose, he feeds it, he uses it to wipe up spilled milk, the other day he used it to wipe away the blood on his lip after he fell, he cleans the dog with it, etc. etc. so gross. it gets a 'bath' several times a week but its still plain disgusting.
This past week it was finally warm enough, so I turned on the hose in front of our house and let him make a mud pit. Just like a boy, he was in seventh heaven. He tormented Norman by spraying him and laughed and laughed for at least an hour.