Capturing Mischief

There is this cliche, about how boys are made out of 'snips and snails and puppy dog tails'. I'm not sure of its origins, but I can attest to it being true. Cliches have to come from some where. So, the stereotype that the boys are always up to some mischief? True. The fact that girls are supposed to be gentler and quieter? True, well, to a certain extent since mine does have two brothers to rile her up.

But anyway, I caught mischief in action today.

Muffin has a big container of hard rubber insects. It is amongst his most prized possessions. Today, he asked to sit in my work chair. Since I was busy doing something else, I said yes and didn't pay much attention to it. I caught snippets of conversation he was having with me.

"Where is Papa?"
"When is Papa coming home?"

To which I replied "Papa is at work. Papa will be home later today. Why?"
"I want Papa to sit in his chair."

Muffin is 3. I don't focus a lot on the logic behind his conversations because they take many tangential launches into irrelevant oblivion.

After the craziness and mad rush to get them onto the school bus, I returned home and started picking up the stuff they didn't clear up. And that was when the CSI Spidey-sense in me started to tingle.

1. There was the empty insect container on the floor and I hadn't seen the insects strewn any where in the house.
2. Packrat's towel on his chair looked suspiciously neat.
3. I suddenly recall Muffin sitting on the chair and pretending to vibrate as if electrocuted and then collapse into gales of laughter.
4. I suddenly recall Muffin asking me when Packrat was going to be home.
5. I suddenly recall Muffin asking me to sit in Packrat's chair only to be told by Evan that "Mommy only sits in Mommy's chair" (Evan is very much a by-the-book kind of boy)

So, I fling the towel off the chair and find his entire nest of insects on the seat under the towel.

The cheeky boy evidently thought that he could scare his father by making him sit on a nest of his insects. I think he was disappointed that he would have to wait till Packrat came home to 'jump out of his chair'. He would be further disappointed to know that I cleared the whole lot off the chair and dumped them back into the bottle. Or so I thought.

When I was leaving for work, I realised he had left me a small surprise in my hand bag too, strategically placed so that I would see it.

I dread the day he discovers how mortified I am of live lizards and stashes one in my bag to jump out at me.
But at the same time, I'm waiting to see what other harmless pranks he's going to come up thinking that it will scare us silly.