Hubby and I seem to have lots of pet names for the 3 boyz: Eldest is "Rainman" and "Safety Patrol" and Hubby also calls him a nickname of our last name; Middle is "Psycho" (perfectly fitting, I might add) a lot of the time--although he prefers to call himself "Dutch" (when we call him by his given name, his response is usually "I Dutch", a nickname Hubby randomly bestowed upon him quite a while ago, and Middle also refers to himself in the third person a majority of the time. He's a strange one, that Middle); and Baby's latest nickname is "Seagull". Baby is always swooping around when there's stray food to be found (whether it's on the floor or even on his brother's plate right next to him) and he isn't above rummaging through the garbage if the pantry door happens to be open, much to his delight. Eldest can make a perfect imitation of a seagull sound. So Eldest now makes the seagull noise whenever he sees Baby diving in to get his claws on some sort of discarded food. It's quite comical.
Anyway, last night after dinner, I was cleaning up the kitchen and Baby was hanging around my legs (as usual). The pantry door happened to get open and there was Baby, ready for action. He discovered a crushed milk jug, and wouldn't you know it? The child played with that damn plastic jug for about an hour. He put the cap on and off, he pretended he was drinking, he threw it around and chased it, etc. Who needs toys when you have something as FUN as that?!
Hmm....I just might let the "Seagull" garbage-dive more often.