Jacob is two. Almost three. He is your typical toddler boy. He is opinionated. He is adventurous. He is ridiculously cute. He is Trouble.
Today we went an an impromptu morning trip to the park. I packed up our bag and we headed out on a nice walk. Jacob wanted to ride his scooter. For two blocks. Then he wanted me to carry it so he could chase a squirrel.
Then he wanted me to carry his scooter so he could sit on a rock.
Then he wanted me to carry his scooter so he could poke a snail. He quickly lost interest in playing with the snail and insisted that I let him take pictures of the snail instead. Exhibit 1:
15 minutes and 32 photos of Jacob's thumb later, we finally arrived at the park. Little did I know, the snail had also arrived at the park, via a toddler boy's pocket. (Luckily I was spared that discovery until pieces of snail shell tumbled out of his pocket during a potty break.)
Jacob went down the slide just a couple times before he spied some unsuspecting seagulls. No creature is safe, I swear. We chased seagulls all the way to the "ice cream store." That's when Jacob loudly proclaimed that he was "very thirsty" and "could we please get some water at the ice cream store?" I'm certain the entire thing was a ploy so that I would buy him a treat.
As soon as we entered the "ice cream store," Jacob looked up sweetly at me and said, "Can I have a treat?" What did I tell you? Do I know this kid or what?
I looked back down at him and asked, "What's the magic word?"
He thought for a second. His eyes lit up. And he said, "Abra-ca-dabra!"