I Should, Perhaps, Have Named Him Leaf Blower...

This is Beanstalk the leaf blower. He is most fascinated by leaves and debris. Twigs, leaves, branches--the bigger the better--all become objects of great joy once he discovers them. His height and length of limb makes waggling a long branch rather fun, I would imagine. Being short and...short...I would not know, but in his hands a branch is an extension of the arm and it's like an extended appendage that can wave and whip and terrorize the villagers. This makes him laugh and grin and shriek with glee. It makes me grateful for my skull bones. My nose has not always fared so well.

When the debris is in a pile, well, there must be diving. Jumping, rolling, and kicking of those expensive ankles and whacking and whooshing of piles of leaves. He has quite a swat and grass and leaves levitate and pieces hang from his hair and eyebrows. Only additional water would make this more fun. He and Squib are identical in this way. Perhaps only happier if the dirt and muck are physically ground into their pores.

Beanstalk shows more "grown-up" signs. He wears pants, for one. He likes baths. With music. He has clothing preferences that are distinct and considerably more fashionable. Squib still pulls his T-shirt down around his waist (yes, the neck around the waist) on occasion like a skirt and runs about in pull-ups and a tee with Crocs. Abhors the shower like nature a vacuum. This can dictate his social preferences. Beanstalk has, well, style. Some would argue that this was always imposed on him by one or the other of his parents, but his parents will tell you that he has distinct likes and dislikes and definitely his own "look." And thank goodness shirt-tucking isn't required anywhere! E-gads.

And I thought raising boys would be "easier."
Scat