I'm a builder!

He says. I build things. That's what I do. I have to mom. It's my "job".


And he wants me to leave his room like this.




He's taken almost all the pillows from my room and into his, taken his trundle bed out and it's a wreck! (At least in my head. Maybe I'm the wreck?? That's probably not far off) I guess in his, he's using his brain and creativity. Maybe he'll be a structural engineer someday. Or he'll be a builder. Just like Bob. Just like my dad. And my grand(dad). I guess it's in his blood.
Build away little guy, build away.
(But only for a day, then it needs to be put away so I can sleep at night. Cool?)