Thank You Randomness

Nate has developed the habit of picking up things he knows he's not suppose to handle (mommy's sunglasses, daddy's phone, etc.) and bringing them to us. He says "thank you!" very loudly as he attempts to hand us the contraband item. So the other day, while I was standing at the stove and making french toast, I heard his voice behind me. "Thank you!" he says. I turn around to see this:

That would be part of our floor furnace. I don't know why he felt the need to take it off and bring it to me but whatever. And let me tell you, that sucker is heavy. If he had dropped it on his toes, well, he would have been one unhappy camper. And if you're freaking out about it being hot -- no need. The floor furnace doesn't work and hasn't been used since this old house had forced air/heat installed years and years ago. It's now just a lovely thing that collects dust bunnies.