I don’t have many toys left from when I was a kid. During my “tween” years, I donated them to the neighborhood kids by throwing pretty much anything that would fit out my bedroom window. Silly, yes, but mildly efficient.
Fast forward 20 years.
I came down from the office the other afternoon during nap time. Sam was in the bathroom.
“I’m just peein’ Daddy.”
“OK, pal. Have you been napping, or are you playing quietly?”
“I’m playing. Come see what I’m doing, Daddy”
As I walked into the room, I noticed it was surprisingly clean. Sam is three. There is no such thing as a clean room for him. My spidey-senses were tingling.
“I’m dropping everything out my window, Daddy!”
I looked out the window, which was open only about an inch. Two stories down were the contents of Sam’s room – books, clothes, blocks, toys, and anything else he could squeeze through.
How’s that for karma?
