I just spent 2 hours tonight putting child locks on our kitchen cabinets. Why? Because we have a raccoon in the house. He is 14 months old, about 24 lbs and 34 inches long. Blond hair, hazel eyes and he just learned to walk on two legs and I swear to you he can talk. His name? Oh yeah, we call him Judah!
I have come up with 2 theories since my son has been born; either God is helping me with my patience or having a great laugh at my expense. I mean really, He knows I am an excessive compulsive clean freak and He gives me Godzilla for a child. You think I'm kidding? My son leaves a path of destruction wherever he goes, he eats my deodorant, destroys my wife's tampons and pulls anything and everything out of the cupboards.
I hear you out there; oh that is just like any child his age. I say to you NOOO!!! You have no idea, he is not the same. He is something different, something outrageous. He is uniquely him and he is mine and his mothers. We love our little tazmanian devil. He is ours and you can't have him.