Violet has taken to calling Henry a maniac because she overhears me doing so. Rolls of toilet paper discovered in the toilet: maniac. Bloated, soggy dog food floating in the water bowl: maniac. Rifling through my tampons for the billionth time in the bathroom: maniac. Shoving bananas in his diaper while eating: maniac.
Kid can't sit still for a second. But I like that about him. He's got shit to do, places to go, stuff to ruin, you know? Ambition. I admire that in a person.
Henwy is a maniac, Violet will shout when she sees my exasperation on discovering his latest "accomplishment". But damn if he isn't the sweetest, loving-est little fella you ever did see. Randomly, while in the midst of trying to pry up the floorboards or dig through the trash, he'll pause and run over to me, bury his face in my legs, wrap his arms around me and squeeze as hard as he can. Then he returns to whatever act of terror he was involved with and continues the mayhem.
This photo illustrates it perfectly. Nothing stops the kid. Water must've been a hundred degrees below zero and the kid waded in there like he was vacationing in Jamaica and refused to leave.