I’ve come to the conclusion that my son is a scavenger.

No, really.  He is.

He’ll be walking somewhere, see something on the floor, pick it up and keep it.  Usually he keeps a hold of it until he finds something better.  Sometimes he’ll keep it until he’s in the car, then he keeps it in the drink holder compartment.  His ‘secret’ hiding place.  More often that not, it’s just a bit of dirt.  Not a shiny sequin or another ‘treasure’.

Also, and this happens EVERY time he’s in my room (which is a lot), he’ll pick up something from my bedside table or dressing table and say (complete with Nigerian accent), ‘Can I have this?  Can I take it to my room?  Mama?  Mama?  Mummy?  Can I?’

It might be a thread lying around.  It could be a discarded envelope.  Most recently it was the empty box for my Jawbone.  When I asked him why he wanted it, he said he didn’t know.  Then I asked him if he knew what it was.  He said he didn’t – but he still wanted it!

Once I say, ‘Yes’ to him, he runs to his room and hides it inside his Thomas the Tank Engine.

He’s a hoarder!!

He has PLENTY of toys and games, and yet all he wants is bits of tat that he finds around the house.

He’s so strange, isn’t he?

LagosDad and I have started calling him (behind his back!) The Crap Collector.  Get it?  The Bone Collector?  Yes?