Last week, before our ickysticky heat wave, P wanted to take Baby Brother for a walk in the woods with his stoop stroller. He makes lots of gnashing and growling sounds so BB can be "scared out of his monster suit," maliciously chuckling all the while. The leaves lay heavy on the ground and held the previous day's rain underneath. This scent was unappealing to the little man, so we retreated up hill to a log for snail hunting. We found no snails (a three week hunt has yet to produce a single snail!) but slugs and worms galore. He's soooo drawn to poking and prodding, and not in a gentle way, lately. I finally asked him what he was trying to achieve. He said he wanted to hurt the worm, so he could see what happens if he hurts something. I'm not sure if he means it in a blood and goo sort of way, or a karmic repercussions kinda way, but he certainly has an agenda. Poor worms. Budding surgeon or sociopath?
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