Mommy tries to work at home. She's pretty good at it. She plays with me and feeds me and picks stuff up. She makes sure I have things to do and that I'm busy before she sneaks off to type on her computer.
But sometimes I look up.
I am very quiet. I play this game with Mommy. She calls it "Thirty-Eight Seconds." She told Daddy that basically it's when I see how much destruction I can cause in thirty eight seconds while she's cooking. Or cleaning. Or going potty. Or writing.
What she doesn't know is that I've been practicing. When she's with me and bound and determined not to leave me alone for longer than it takes her to blink her eyes I pay attention to what we're doing. If we're playing blocks I am focused on the blocks. Nothing can distract me. Not tv, not food, not Mommy talking to me, not the phone ringing. Nothing. I am the blocks.
When we're watching tv together I am focused. I do not blink. I sit still for 30 minutes at a time. I can't hear people talk to me. I can't see people walk through the room. I am focused. I am watching tv.
But...after a few days when Mommy has taken note of all the times I'm BUSY and uses those moments to sneak off to potty or do laundry in the other room or sit down to write I use my secret special Ninja moves. Mommy doesn't hear me make a sound.
Thirty-eight seconds later she comes to check on me and seems overly surprised to find me encased in creamer, eating sugar out of the canister or smearing butter all over the living room.
I also discovered (during a less intense moment) that if I bring her something and yell "SURPRISE!" she smiles and kisses me.
If only I remembered to do that after I make a mess.
Maybe she wouldn't holler so loud.