Meatball

Jody gave Jack the nickname "Meatball" many months ago. And it made me cringe. Meatball. I don't want my kid being called Meatball or Bubba or anything of the sort. But I must admit, Meatball kind of fits. Jack is my cuddly, adorable, sweet, second son who brings me huge doses of joy on a daily basis. Meatball is his alter ego, the one who stirs up trouble and creates disasters in mere seconds. The are very different, but one in the same. Jack gives hugs and kisses, waves at everyone, smiles and laughs and giggles with excitement. Meatball does things like...

walk around like this in his attempt to scare the daylights out of someone.

use sidewalk chalk to decorate Mama's treadmill (Note: Removing chalk from treadmill is ridiculously hard and the belt will never really be completely clean again).

strike a pose showing off "assets" to whomever is around. Meatball is never embarrassed.

experiment with the plumbing by seeing what he can actually get to flush down the toilet, like a small, plastic panda. This leads to two plumbers, two hours of labor and removing the toilet from the floor to dislodge Meatball's handiwork.

walk around with one shoe on and that one shoe worn in a new, creative way.

use the refrigerator door for a swing. You know, because we don't have a swing set in our very own backyard.

run like he stole something when I catch him doing something bad, which is pretty often.

Meatball also led his parents to install a new lock high on the door to keep him from escaping. And when he figured out he could use a He-Man sword to undo that lock, his Daddy had to alter it to make it sword-proof. Meatball has also been seen opening the refrigerator door, removing his diaper and urinating inside said refrigerator. He has also stolen and hid items that have never been recovered (cell phone, money, keys...) and has developed a new obsession with the toilet plunger. Our little Meatball, full of mischief and mayhem. Yes, the name definitely fits.