And now he can open each and every door in my house. Doors are no longer his enemy.
He brings me the bottle of soap from the bathroom, a nozzle from the vacuum, a package of pasta from the pantry. He hands them to me gently, and with much satisfaction in his smile. He is cute, of course. But now he knows he holds the upper-hand. I am at his mercy... and he relishes in that fact.
Now he wears the sassy brown wedges in this house...
And there is nothing I can do to stop him.