If you came to our house, that's something you would most likely hear after being here only a few minutes. I've grown so accustomed to the need for this stern warning, it pretty much just rolls off my tongue with little or no effort and certainly no surprise.
Action that warrants this response? Oliver's new trick of hiding his toys in the heat vents. I knew he was up to something when I heard a lot of banging coming from the other room. Upon arrival I see my boy fiercely whacking things (table, chairs, etc.) with the formerly harmless vent -a turning point in our baby-proofing saga. When we remember, we put a chair leg over the vent (his favorite location being the dining room), but we are only human as it turns out, and often forget the after-dinner drill. Yesterday (being one of the forgetful days) I heard a lot of clamoring coming from the dining room. Hurrying to stop the destruction, I noticed something poking out of the duct work...a drumstick!!!! His toy drumset was being commissioned into the land of lost toys, apparently. There it stood, at attention, one end in the floor. This drumstick should receive a medal for pointing me in the direction of so many other toys that were MIA. After using the drumstick for a fishing pole, I found: a cow, a pirate, a horse. Oliver Isaaacccccc!!!!!!!