housebroken

There are plush bunnies and plastic easter eggs all over the floor. Plus several matchbox cars, a handful of small green army guys, puzzle pieces and a bunch of balls, all left where they were being played with before he climbed up on his chair.
He has eaten several slices of corned beef, a dozen cubes of colby cheese, a pile of corn chips with fresh mock moly.
He shakes his head in a slightly canine way, as if he were clearing thoughts. Or clearing crumbs?
He still has his eye on a leftover cupcake. He does say please.
I sometimes liken him to a small puppy, frolicking excitedly, leaving small messes for other people to clean up in his wake.
A wet rag, a quick vacuum, a change of clothes. I can handle it.