I often refer to Tucker as a mini crackhead; he does things out of the blue that make no sense and often make me laugh my guts out.
Just now, he was climbing all over Kansas. She lovingly growled at him, as if to say, "I will never hurt you, but I really want you OFF of me!". But Tucker stood his ground, stayed on top of her, and growled back. Sounds like someone else I know.
And then, when the phone rang right after that, Tucker looked over at the phone and said, "Ha-woah?".
I also found him washing his hair in the toilet the other day. And when his bowels exploded in a camping chair, I rushed off to get towels. I came back and he was finger painting with his poop.
I laugh. Even when there is poopy finger paint. I can't imagine life without him.