THE DEVIL MAKES HIM DO IT

Deacon will be 8 in early March.  Should he live that long.

He has been ornery since birth and it continues.  Actually, ornery is not the right word, according to the Webster dictionary.  Mischievous is more like it. 

mis·chie·vous

/ˈmisCHivəs/

adjective

1. (of a person, animal, or their behavior) causing or showing a fondness for causing trouble in a playful way.
   

Before he was two, I remember him saying "I not have it" when he was sitting on his brother's special Lego. 

His curiosity shows in so many ways.  Sometimes he makes a "sandwich" of everything on his plate, names it and then eats it.  For instance au gratin potatoes, chicken and asparagus was dubbed "Wednesday Triple Decker.  And he finished off the entire plate.  The other morning he was in the kitchen, smelling all the spices and herbs.  He invited me to join him and then we would vote yes or no if we should use it in cooking.  We didn't dispose of any because sometimes these taste better when cooked in a dish with other food.

Imagination is also a big suit of his.  For a year or two he had an imaginary friend, Jim.  Jim was a pretty good influence on him.  When I heard Deacon whispering I asked what's up?  He shushed me and said Jim was praying to God.  He sometimes has the habit now of saying "oh, god!".  I told him he should say oh gosh and only use God when he is praying or singing praise.  He immediately started singing "Dear God, thank you so much for inventing Roblox.  I love to play it so much."  His innocent little voice was so precious, I had to put my face in my pillow to minimize my laughing.

His stuffed animals are still some of his best friends.  He often asks me to babysit a few and when he returns, I have to tell him tales of what rascals they were and how I had to put them in time out or down for a nap or some such.  He loves knock knock jokes that make no sense to anyone but him. He always gives them a belly laugh!

He does get himself into trouble (a lot).  He sneaked a bag of miniature marshmallows from his parents' room (shelving in their closet is another pantry).  Ate all of them.  Thanksgiving morning, Dad went to get them to put on his sweet potato casserole right before the drive over to his brother's house.  First he looked in their room.  Then the hall pantry. Then the kitchen cabinets.  He was getting irritated and asked both boys (and Mom) if they had seen the marshmallows.  Everyone said no.  Until Dad asked a more direct question of the boys ... did you EAT the marshmallows.  He then fessed up.

His current fun is balloons.  First he would simply bat them around the house.  Then he would challenge us to play volleyball in the hallway.  He draws faces on them, clothespins them to a t-shirt and wrestles around with him until he pops.  Yesterday he went through quite a few balloons so Mom said no more today.  Of course, he sneaked another and thankfully, when he brought it in to me to blow it up, I asked if he had gotten permission.  NEVER MIND, GRAMMA as he huffed out of my cabin.  Next thing we know, he was in the bathroom trying to fill it with water (use your imagination here) and not only got water everywhere, he caused a leak under the sink from the pressure backing up.  He got to mop it all up and Dad was under the sink for a while fixing things.

Despite behaving like Dennis the Menace, he is the happiest kid.  He wakes up singing.  If his brother gets in trouble for something, he tries to take the blame.  He already takes books into the bathroom and one is a child's Bible.

Maybe there is hope ....