
He's such a big boy...
The Great Stuff Trade is a part of daily life. I feel like we are constantly trading items between each other. Rarely does a visit go by during which we are not passing random objects. "Can I borrow your sewing machine?" "Could I have that recipe?" "Do you guys have any non-water-soluble glue?" "Could you fix these Christmas lights for me?" "Could I read that magazine when you're done?" "Did you pick up that cheese for me?" "I think I left my bracelet at your house..."
Once, I asked my friend if this amount of 'stuff-trading' was normal in the States. She said "No." Sometimes I forget what is or isn't normal or what I would or wouldn't do in the States. This also applies to fashion. But don't get me started on that...
Anyway, the trading never really ends. And I think it's kinda fun.
I have a shelf in my closet dedicated to items such as these that are 'in waiting' to be traded to this person or that. Amongst the items traded in the past few years are empty jars, spices, a satin crib sheet, yeast, medicines, plants, recipes, baking pans, craft projects, sewing machines, bags, colored pictures, potted plants, a scale, a map, silverware, seeds, clothing, nail polish remover, cardboard boxes, a highchair, electric drills, lost earrings, glue, baked goods, locally made peanut butter, a bottle warmer, tupperware, DVDs leftovers, fabric, baking soda, baby carriers, homemade jam, a cake saver, Christmas decorations, diapers, diaper covers, diaper pins, train sets, shoes, dishes, a teapot, books, frozen meat, magazines, recipes, paintbrushes, ground coffee, cheese, money, conditioner, dirt, a guitar, bags, a lint roller, teething gel, sippy cups, blankets and a hack saw.
What will be next?

Went to get pizza with some friends tonight and when we came down from the upstairs restaurant, we saw a big party going on! Mickie, Minnie, and one of Snow White's dwarfs were hosting this shindig. As we waited for our ride, H was quickly snatched up and taken into the center. This happens all the time. Strangers carry him away. It doesn't phase him. Neither do the strangers taking pictures. Neither did the life-size characters. Neither did the video camera with blinding light. Don't know whose birthday it was... but my boy says "thanks" for letting him celebrate too.
Our car was broken into last night.
He sliced the seatbelt and snatched my innocent boy's car seat. I mean, if you wanna steal... don't. But if you feel you have too?... steal our bag out of the trunk, fine. Stop there. DO NOT steal from my son! He is my baby. Don't take from him. For heaven's sake. Don't take from him.
And the thing I hate most about it all is that it makes me more jumpy, paranoid, and stressed-out. As if living in this place lately hasn't made me enough of those things already.