Rhett Butler in the house

We have a charmer on our hands.

This charmer likes to infiltrate the very large CD/DVD wall rack in our living room. It has a child fence barricade around it - for obvious reasons. CDs and DVDs present a pandora's box of attractive off-limitness and endless possibilities for "sorting" and "fingerprinting". Ari also likes to select a CD, carry it to the player and proceed to play the damn thing. All this compliments of my mother who, in her grandma joy over the holidays, painstakingly showed Ari how to operate their CD player (which has the added bonus of lighting up in a lovely shade of blue...ours does not light up).

But I digress...this barricade worked just fine for 5 months. Kept Ari out. Kept Sascha's meticulous alphabetizing in order. Upon our return after the holidays, Ari discovered that he could move the barricade..."You mean it's not screwed to the wall? No shit!? Wish I'd've noticed this sooner."

Oh joy. For him.

Now, whenever it's a little too quiet in the living room, I know just what to call out, "I said no, Ari." And the delicate dance begins - I don't want to make a huge deal out of it and have it become a locking of horns, nor do I want to shirk discipline and boundaries. So I walk up to the little thief-behind-the-barricade, say "no" and ask him to put the CDs back. He shakes his head and hugs the CDs. I ask again and then I make him. He usually shrieks and goes stiff. I then proceed to drag him back to the honest side of the barricade and shove it back up against the wall. I think it's become a locking of horns anyhow.

This happens at least three times a day.

Until this afternoon.

I managed to catch him before he entered the danger zone, as his hand was on the fence. I shook my head and said no and came over to sit down next to him. Choosing a new approach, he smiled dazzlingly at me and reached out with both his hands to pat me on the shoulders. Hard not to smile at that but I managed a poker face. He tried to move the fence again. I said no. He let go of it and gave me a hug and then touched my nose. "Yes, Ari, that's my nose, thank you." He giggled. All the while smiling like a con man, practically batting his eyelashes. He made another attempt. Another no from me. Another nose touch and then a stream of babble that gave the impression he was trying to explain why it would be good for me to allow him back there. Then a nose touch, a cheek pat and a touch to my hair. By this time, I couldn't stop laughing. Where on earth did he learn this stuff? Certainly not from his father and most definitely not from me. Sesame Street maybe? I knew Elmo was up to no good...

Finally, brilliance struck and I said excitedly, "Ari! Where are your toys?!" He pointed just as excitedly and we moved on to destroying block buildings. CDs forgotten. Thank God.

So, I'm wondering if this little gift of his will continue on through life or if it'll deflate when we move the CDs to a safer location. Not quite sure which option would be preferable. On the one hand, it's awfully cute at 15 months. On the other hand, a gift like that could land him in prison...or shacked up with a sugar mamma...in 25 years.

Or maybe he'll just really rock in sales some day.