There's a food thief in our midst

Liam (Li-am) n. [Gaelic, nord. < alternate of William] 1. a boy who lives in house 2. Part child part lemur 3. scribe with an affinity for writing paraphernalia 4. mother-described bon vivant 5. undercover food cleptomaniac.

The boy's climbing prowess has only aided his quest for all things delicious. Cookies, which we keep stashed on the counter, have become his passion. He'll point to them and say, "Toot-tee" and then dance a jig. One day we found him perched on the counter eating one he had fished out of the bag. His agility knows no bounds.

One morning I prepped some strawberries for us. I cut up several for Liam, put them in bowl and left a rather plump one on the cutting board — a treat for Mama. I left the kitchen for maybe 45 seconds and guess what I found on my return? A strawberry bandit.

Over the weekend we attended a bandito birthday bash and the food scofflaw struck again. I was talking with fellow moms when out of the corner of my eye I see him hunkered over a batch of cookies in the shape of the No. 2. They were supposed to be off-limits until the singing and dessert portion of the party. I run over to grab him, but the damage had been done. He'd taken a bite out of one and placed it back on the heap. Embarrassing. We truly do feed the kid, I promise.