I am sitting in the office. Bryce is crawling around the floor. He first goes to the old keyboard we have left for him to "type" with. But it's not the keyboard he loves. It's the cord. And more specifically, it's the plug on the end of the cord. First he shakes the cord as hard as he can, flipping the plug every which way -- including a near miss on his eye. I take it away and point out that the keys are more fun. He doesn't bite. He instead moves along to the next thing that catches his eye. The trash can.
Before I can grab him he has pulled out a bunch of dried flowers. My bridal bouquet, actually, that I have just today decided I can part with. Bryce grabs the all-to-easy-to-reach stems and now I have a pile of crumbled pink roses on my floor.
While I take care of that mess he finds the open door and makes a B-line. He is now in the dining room heading for another dried flower arrangement. I pick him up and redirect his attention again, this time to a pile of his books on a bookshelf in the office. He is happy now, reading an activity book called "I Am a Child of God."
He just ripped a page. I guess my post is finished.