Day 3: Still Alive

I awoke in our hotel room at the Best Western in Florence, Oregon to the sound of the room phone ringing. I stumbled to the phone but didn't get there in time. I noticed the door to our motel room was open so I stuck my head out trying to figure out what was going on, maybe mom hadn't closed the door tightly after she left in search of breakfast with Zoe. Maybe she took Henry with her on a walk. Since I couldn't see anything without my glasses on, I went back in to find them and put them on. Before I could investigate further there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find Caleb, in his pajamas, in the arms of a stranger, next to a woman in a Best Western uniform asking if this was my son. After assuring her that, yes this is my son, I then went to retrieve Henry off the third floor deck where he had been cornered after nipping at a few guests' heels. I still don't know for sure why Caleb decided to leave our room that morning. The hotel worker told me it's a good thing my son knows my name. Is this what the threes are all about? This (not so) newly found independence is scary and embarrassing.

Back on our way down the coast. We promised Caleb we would stop at the beach in Bandon was it was ridiculously cold and windy and miserable so we found a playground inland a little. Caleb was disappointed. But! Forever now, Caleb has been talking about his purple house in San Pablo. He has a purple car that goes with his purple house and he is allowed to do anything he wants at this house and all of his favorite people live there with him (which isn't usually his parents) and the description of this house gets more and more elaborate as he builds on this story. Well, at this park in Bandon, there was a little play tugboat and he declared THIS his purple house. He told me he wanted to stay there forever. He showed me where he cooks dinner and sleeps and colors... he was in love. (Eventually, of course, we did have to leave. Tantrums ensued.)