And I think, Wow. This one is going to take me for a ride.
You see, there's just not a malicious bone in that little 27 lb. body. But he goes at/into/up/around everything full-force. If it can be thrown, eaten, smeared, climbed, or flattened, Jackson is interested in it. Bonus points are given to items that are wet or sandy. The mud and rocks on the construction site next door have provided him with unending entertainment.
Indeed, Jackson is most at home when he's outside; he spends the majority of his time outdoors catching "pets" these days. To Emily's horror, he brought his pet slug upstairs to meet her while she was still in bed last week. Unfortunately for Emily, Jackson mistook her fear and disgust for ignorance: obviously, Emily did not realize what a fun pet he'd found for them! "Slug, sllluuugg!" he enunciated for her benefit, crawling after her on the bed, one hand tightly gripping its slimy form.
Luckily for all of us, Jackson's affection for animals met a more acceptable object this week, when we visited a friend's house where 3 newborn kittens were recently born.
"He like me!" he exclaimed, as the tiny cat struggled to free himself from Jackson's overbearing embrace. "My bring him home?"
But where is home? "Want go home," Jackson would often tell me a few weeks ago, as we pulled into our driveway. "We are home," I'd explain at first, trying in vain to find a way to define such an abstract concept to toddler, "this is our house."
"Want go home," he'd insist, dragging me back to the car or down the sidewalk, looking intently into my eyes. "Home."
"Where is home?" I asked. He stared at me blankly. Ah, yes, he's inherited my sense of direction. "So...who is at home?" I finally asked. Jackson's face brightened. "Nana! And Grandaddy! See Joy!"
Of course. Home is where the heart and the horsies are.