Double Trouble

Gregory is beginning to assert his independence. He uses the word 'no' a lot, throws tantrums if his demands are not met, gets into everything he's not supposed to - open cereal boxes, toilets, dishwasher, makeup drawers - the usual toddler type stuff. Brian and I have taken to calling him The Menace. The idea of him still being my 'easy baby' left with the notion that yellow toilet water should be enough of a deterrent to keep anyone from drinking it (yes I'm saying my kids play with pee water - gross).

Gregory has also taken a few pages out of Charlie's rule book on treatment of siblings. Though Charlie is much more cautious and predictable; knowing that when he pushes Gregory down, steals his matchbox car, then pokes him in the eye with it, he should run. Gregory is just outright brazen. I've seen him kick his brother in the ankle, bite him in the back of the neck, and give a quick hair pull for good measure, then stick around. Kind of like those police dramas where they are at the murder scene, the camera slowly pans to the crowd, and the killer is standing there, surveying the scene, emotionless yet quietly pleased with himself and the attention.

Now that I have 2 trouble makers on my hands, upon hearing cries in the distance, I can no longer come running under the assumption that my eldest is the evil doer. This is a very difficult habit to break after almost 2 years of Charlie being the sole committer of transgressions in our household.

The worst part is that Gregory knows he can get away with anything simply by using his arsenal of cuteness. I am a complete sucker no matter what his weapon of choice - batting of eye lashes, coy smile, spontaneous hugs, etc. It's really quite an embarrassment to authority figures everywhere. But he is the perfect combination of looks, charm, humor and cunning; destined for a future of criminal activity.

The other morning, I heard the highest pitched shriek my 2 ears have ever experienced. I refrained from yelling, 'Charlie, what the hell did you do now?'  As I entered the living room to survey the damage, there stood Gregory, wielding a Tinker Toy weapon, banging his brother in the head with all of his might. Charlie was curled in the fetal position, shrieking like a trapped animal. Gregory simply smiled then hit, smiled then hit, over and over.

I said, Gregory, no! No hit. We do not hit our brother! He actually laughed, then smiled at me like I was giving him a compliment and said, "Uh hammer."
'I'm very happy you made a hammer out of Tinker Toys, but we do not hit people with it.'
Still smiling he responds, "Dawry hit."
'No, we don't hit Charlie' (aka Dawry).
Looking up at me with huge blue eyes, he bats his lashes and says in a whisper, "I sowy, Mommy."

His sweetness increases exponentially with the amount of trouble he's in. All it takes is an "I sowy" and he is forgiven. He could be stabbing the neighbors cat to death with his Elmo toothbrush that he fashioned into a shiv and I'm like, 'Okay, but just don't do it again.'
"Aw wight, Mommy."