My mom has run her daycare for a few years now, so I've seen a few kids go from being babies to toddlers, and from toddlers to kids. And I'll admit that it's kind of fun to watch them go from being completely incapable of taking care of themselves to being actual people (albeit small people) in two to three years. But you know what's really fun? Figuring out which ones are smart.
Kids always pull shenanigans - they're little and haven't quite learned how to be responsible yet. But it's the *kind* of shenanigan that they try to execute that tells you something about them. If they run into a room they're not supposed to be in, that's normal. If they run into that room and then close the door behind them so they don't get caught, that's clever. Annoying, but clever.
That said, I think we've got a smart one on our hands. For whatever reason, he likes to take the cushions from the futon, put them on the ground, and them jump on them. It's actually fairly harmless, so my mom usually doesn't mind so long as it doesn't get too rowdy. The floors are clean, and the cushions are fairly sturdy, so it's no big deal. We just have to put them away immediately after so that a) the cushions aren't on the floor, and b) no one else slips on them.
Anyhow, he pulled all six of the cushions off, and put them on the ground. I figured he wasn't using all six, so I put most of them back on the futon. He took them back down. I put them back up. It turned into a game. And for a few minutes, it was all laughs as we went through the same pattern. Then, the kid decided he wanted to win the game. He sat/knelt/put his body weight on one. Good move, I'm not about to throw the cushion/kid combination back on the futon.
But, he was impatient, so he'd try to grab the next cushion. And in the time it took him to do that, he'd release his hold on the cushion. So I grabbed it, and threw it back on the futon. The first couple of times, he didn't really catch on. By the third time, though, he'd figured it out. So he improvised. He didn't just pull the cushions off, he pulled them off and then stashed them in a corner. It was easier for him to protect that way, since it'd be obvious if I made a dash for the corner. Assuming I played fair, all he'd really have to do was beat me to the corner, and he'd be able to fend me off by blocking my way (let's ignore brute force, that's not really the point).
I have to admit, it was a good plan. He could still grab all the cushions if he just grabbed them one cushion at a time, and he had a plan for how to protect his existing stash. What's more, he could *still* jump on them because sticking them in that corner didn't put any extra limitations on him.
What he didn't factor in was that I'm faster than he is. I laughed when I realized what he was doing, so I let him grab a few cushions. After number 3 or so, though, I rushed in and threw the entire stash back on the futon. Honestly, I just wanted to see what he did next. I didn't much care whether he jumped or not, I just wanted to see what he'd do (I'm a curious kind of guy, what can I say?).
The munchkin improvised yet again - he repeated the corner plan, only his new stash was under the table about 10 feet farther away. As best as I can tell, he was trying to neutralize any speed advantage by picking a spot that was far enough away that I wouldn't be able to dash in without him noticing. Again, the unspoken rule was that I wouldn't just bully my way through him. So if he could get to the stash before I could get out, he could fight me off. And picking the space beneath the table technically gave him an edge, since he could maneuver there better than I could.
Honestly? I laughed out loud as soon as I realized where he was taking the cushions. In roughly fifteen minutes, this two year-old correctly assessed his strengths & weakness, came up with a battle plan, and then came up with backup plans on backup plans to adjust to what he observed. Hell, I know adults in the working world that don't think that quickly.
The kicker of all this was that he'd slide one of the cushions out from underneath the table just far enough that he could jump on it. It was still quasi-protected at that point, and he didn't really have to leave his advantageous defensive position. So he could *still* jump on the cushions even after all that.
I was far too amused at this point to ruin his fun. He earned it. And like I said, it's relatively harmless fun. But man, I'll be curious how the next twenty to thirty years turn out for this kid. I'm hedging my bets, though; I'll be nice to him in case he ends up buying out my company or becoming supreme leader of the world.
Kids always pull shenanigans - they're little and haven't quite learned how to be responsible yet. But it's the *kind* of shenanigan that they try to execute that tells you something about them. If they run into a room they're not supposed to be in, that's normal. If they run into that room and then close the door behind them so they don't get caught, that's clever. Annoying, but clever.
That said, I think we've got a smart one on our hands. For whatever reason, he likes to take the cushions from the futon, put them on the ground, and them jump on them. It's actually fairly harmless, so my mom usually doesn't mind so long as it doesn't get too rowdy. The floors are clean, and the cushions are fairly sturdy, so it's no big deal. We just have to put them away immediately after so that a) the cushions aren't on the floor, and b) no one else slips on them.
Anyhow, he pulled all six of the cushions off, and put them on the ground. I figured he wasn't using all six, so I put most of them back on the futon. He took them back down. I put them back up. It turned into a game. And for a few minutes, it was all laughs as we went through the same pattern. Then, the kid decided he wanted to win the game. He sat/knelt/put his body weight on one. Good move, I'm not about to throw the cushion/kid combination back on the futon.
But, he was impatient, so he'd try to grab the next cushion. And in the time it took him to do that, he'd release his hold on the cushion. So I grabbed it, and threw it back on the futon. The first couple of times, he didn't really catch on. By the third time, though, he'd figured it out. So he improvised. He didn't just pull the cushions off, he pulled them off and then stashed them in a corner. It was easier for him to protect that way, since it'd be obvious if I made a dash for the corner. Assuming I played fair, all he'd really have to do was beat me to the corner, and he'd be able to fend me off by blocking my way (let's ignore brute force, that's not really the point).
I have to admit, it was a good plan. He could still grab all the cushions if he just grabbed them one cushion at a time, and he had a plan for how to protect his existing stash. What's more, he could *still* jump on them because sticking them in that corner didn't put any extra limitations on him.
What he didn't factor in was that I'm faster than he is. I laughed when I realized what he was doing, so I let him grab a few cushions. After number 3 or so, though, I rushed in and threw the entire stash back on the futon. Honestly, I just wanted to see what he did next. I didn't much care whether he jumped or not, I just wanted to see what he'd do (I'm a curious kind of guy, what can I say?).
The munchkin improvised yet again - he repeated the corner plan, only his new stash was under the table about 10 feet farther away. As best as I can tell, he was trying to neutralize any speed advantage by picking a spot that was far enough away that I wouldn't be able to dash in without him noticing. Again, the unspoken rule was that I wouldn't just bully my way through him. So if he could get to the stash before I could get out, he could fight me off. And picking the space beneath the table technically gave him an edge, since he could maneuver there better than I could.
Honestly? I laughed out loud as soon as I realized where he was taking the cushions. In roughly fifteen minutes, this two year-old correctly assessed his strengths & weakness, came up with a battle plan, and then came up with backup plans on backup plans to adjust to what he observed. Hell, I know adults in the working world that don't think that quickly.
The kicker of all this was that he'd slide one of the cushions out from underneath the table just far enough that he could jump on it. It was still quasi-protected at that point, and he didn't really have to leave his advantageous defensive position. So he could *still* jump on the cushions even after all that.
I was far too amused at this point to ruin his fun. He earned it. And like I said, it's relatively harmless fun. But man, I'll be curious how the next twenty to thirty years turn out for this kid. I'm hedging my bets, though; I'll be nice to him in case he ends up buying out my company or becoming supreme leader of the world.
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