The Taz

It's interesting living with the Tazmanian Devil.

What!!

You don't really think I do? You're a skeptic?

Oh, yes, I have proof. He has really big eyes, and he does have those teeth. And, his tongue is often hanging clear out of his mouth.

But the thing about him that makes me KNOW he is really Taz is the way he whips through a room...

a house...

a full city block...

and makes disasters wherever he goes. Here's a picture I took of him the other day:

I'm not kidding. He's dangerous.

In a moment, he can climb on top of tables, unload entire dishwashers, and give Polly Pocket a bath in the toilet (And do other things with the toilet that we'll just try and forget about).

In a matter of seconds, He can take an entire basket of folded laundry and render it fully... and completely... unfolded.

He unpacks two weeks worth of recycling from the recycling bins while I'm pouring milk into a cereal bowl.

He has discovered that markers are for writing...

But has not yet discovered that paper... is for writing.

You wouldn't know he was the Taz just by looking at him. To strangers, he's as sweet as pie:

As a friend mentioned today, "He's really quiet about [his destruction]!". He tries to hide it. He's sneaky. In fact, that's often how I know he's up to something. He's strangely quiet.

But, I'm telling you, folks. He's a force to be reckoned with.

He's...

a BOY.