Aksolutely yes.

   Sometimes when the boys ask if they can do something particularly harmful to their safety or mental health, my answer is ABSOLUTELY NOT. (Note the beginning of that sentence was sometimes) Usually it involves climbing, or fire, or watching Barney.
   Well, Max has taken to using the word absolutely, with a three year old's twist to it. Aksolutely. And it's always in conjunction with the word yes. He's a defiant little thing. So the thing I've been hearing a lot lately is "Aksolutely yes, Con-noh." Those words cause panic and I run to wherever they are, or at least wherever I can spy on them. Most of the time it's harmless. Con-noh got the answers to Max's interrogation correct. Or he picked the right toy to play with that wouldn't interfere with Max's own toys. Or he's agreeing with Con-noh on how mean I am.
   But now and then I find Connor perched precariously on the top of a dresser, or at the top of the ladder on the swing set, where the only landing he'd find is a cemented border of large rocks. Or in mid-swing with a pvc pipe in the basement.
    That's the thing about being married to a very handy man. Pvc pipes become children's toys. And they're all over the place.
   The six of you will be very relieved to know the kitchen knives are usually out of reach.
  
  Here he is, in all his bed-headed glory. (By the way, the wiggling accompanies every conversation we have.)