A Sign of Intelligence?

They say that curiosity is a sign of intelligence...as is early babbling, inquisitive looks, and mischievous acts. If this is true, I have some neurosurgeons and rocket scientists in the making here. Some days I am just surprised I can brush my teeth without having to put out a dozen fires along the way. Yesterday was a day of Jim. The boy who, "Walked Like and Egyptian", in a "Thriller" pose only last Saturday during breakfast, yesterday decided to help daddy's hair continue quickly down that graying path. It started with his very shortlived reprieve from riding in his usual strapped in position in the shopping cart, to run down the Meijer isle, only to return quickly when dad called him, walking slowly back, with his hand stuck out, brushing every single glass bottle on the shelves along the way. The swaying, teetering, and rocking of delicacies only ceased when I met him halfway, elevating him quickly to his reserved seat. The minor screaming lasted only minutes, and the remainder of the trip was safe and uneventful. However, home is not always the safer spot. Jim and Ed had a snack and ventured outside to play nicely on the slide and playhouse. Although I initially worried when I saw Jim roosted atop the playhouse the other day, I have since accepted his risk of falling as consequential to his discovery, and therefore, I decided to pay a bill or two. An ocaisional glance and keeping an open ear only gave me a false sense of security. As I finished up the third bill, hearing chatting, I looked over my shoulder to see my boys watering the slide and grass with my red watering cans. WAIT!!! I DON"T HAVE RED WATERING CANS!!! I quickly yelled out NO!, and froze them in their tracks. At least they were nice enough to reclose the shed after they removed the gas cans. Once reprimand, discussion, cleaning and better securing of shed was taken care of, they were inside playing, and I decided to make a rib rub, and prep my slab. Mr. Sneak, was in and out of the kitchen so quietly, that when Ed yelled to me that Jim was pouring red powder on his bed, I had no idea my Cayenne pepper was missing. Once the bed was stripped, I only had to break from my food prep, three more times to remove Jim from the upper bunk and other dangerous spots, but at least he hadn't climbed into the top drawer of his dresser, like he did the day before. Sign of intelligence? Or sign of a mischievous Jim? You make the call!