In fact, I am feeling a little comatose right now.
History's longest week has yet to draw to a close.
And next week will surely prove to be just as draining.
Chasing this wild man around is truly exhausting.
I have no photographic evidence of our adventures because I am too busy disinfecting scrapes, kissing his humongous head after yet another bonk, and yelling at him to stop jumping on a discarded mattress someone left next to our dumpster that cats have been mating on.
That and I am too embarrassed to admit that we do indeed live in a complex that not only turns a blind eye to residents discarding their crusty furniture on the lawn but that he managed to rip off his shoes and socks and leap onto said furniture before I could stop him.
It is government-subsidized housing.
In my defense.
I don't know what to say about the cats.
Anyway, not only did I have to drag him off the mattress, twice, but then he tells me he was definitely not jumping on it.
Even though I saw him do it.
And we made direct eye contact.
It is all so illogical.
There are no words.
The rest of the week has proved to be just as disgusting ... and irritating.
Last night he stepped on Ryan's glasses (although in his defense, she broke the number one cardinal rule of responsible eye wear care and left them on the ground) and broke off one of the arms.
Now she has a very fashionable pair of opera glasses that will definitely need to be replaced.
Then he crawled into bed with me only to wet it several hours later.
And when I say wet, I really mean drench.
It smelled spectacular.
And then, as I was washing the pee bedding, after hauling it to the on-site laundry facility this morning, he comes to tell me that he has accidentally spilled his entire bowl of cereal (with milk) and is very sorry.
And a small pile of grass-stained clothing I need to pretreat after our trip to the park.
What is that endearing saying about boys being boys?
What I do know is that he is sound asleep, uninjured, fully fed, clean, and knows he is loved so the day wasn't a total wash.
He is a handful.
And a little bit of a maniac.
He farts on purpose and laughs.
But he makes me smile.
And I can't imagine my days without him.
I could do without some of the antics, but I keep telling myself I will miss them when they pass.