Godzilla Destroys Tokyo. Film at 11.

Godzilla visits our house every now and then. He is in the shape of a very small boy with spunsilk blonde hair and big blue eyes. He masquerades as our sweet, cuddlesome grandson whose chuckle can twist up our heart, but, yeah, he's really Godzilla. You know how in those old movies, Godzilla came striding through Tokyo, knocking over buildings and causing untold, rampant destruction? Yeah, that's Wesley. He can ransack a kitchen in two minutes. Strew toys everywhere in the living room in five. Trying to keep up with him is like trying to stuff a rabid squirrel in a tube sock. It's possible, but I don't recommend it.

But not only he is a mini-tornado, he is devious. DEVIOUS. He loves to play with the magnets I have on my refrigerator and dishwasher. He sticks and unsticks them (sticks and unsticks, sticks and unsticks - hey, he's 15 months old - this is high entertainment), holds them, chews on them, drops them into tupperware bowls. These are big magnets - I'm not about to let our precious boy choke on something. I have one magnet I really like. I had jokingly said I needed a sign for my dishwasher that said Clean/Dirty one time and my daughter found me a magnet that says that on the top and bottom - you just switch it around. Wesley LOVES that magnet. After he left the last time, as I was cleaning up the kitchen, I realized that magnet was missing. Hmph. The boy must have shoved it under the stove or refrigerator. Oh, well. I'll worry about that later. Right now, I need a nap.

The next time he came over, he went directly to a favorite cupboard in the kitchen. He opened it, looked over at me with a mischevious grin, and TOOK OUT THE MAGNET FROM WHERE HE HAD HIDDEN IT. He knew exactly where it was. He had put it there. He remembered. I'm calling MENSA today.

At least it wasn't the tv remote.

Ha ha ha ha ha Haaa. The living room is next!