Today, when I was putting Reese down for a nap, I found a meatball under his pillow.
Under his pillow.
And if you think that's weird, wait until you hear the conversation that followed.
Me: "Reese, you can't have meatballs down here."
Reese: "But Cole has one."
Me: "He does? Where?"
Reese: "Under his bed."
Me: "Will you get it for me?" (I was, after all, holding the baby. Yeesh.)
Reese climbs around under Cole's bed and rescues a perfect little meatball from the frame of the bed. A place where I would have never, never found it. He hands it to me and I trek upstairs, trying not to laugh my head off.
I walk into the living room.
Me: "Cole, I brought your meatball upstairs and it's on the kitchen counter. No more hiding food in your room, okay?"
Cole: "Well, okay. But we do usually remember it."
Me: "How many other foods have you hidden down there?"
Cole: "Just one. It was a cookie."
Okay, now cookies--that I can understand. But meatballs? Reese said they named them Midnight Meatballs and were saving them until after lights out.
Today might just be my weirdest day as a mother!