I have a theory that cuteness and naughtiness are positively correlated. That is, the cuter the creature, the higher their ability to get away with evil mischief.
Case in point, my cats are cute, but as kittens they were adorable. They were also supremely awful. Climbing up everything with their needly claws, from screen windows to my bare legs. Only knocking over things that break, they would ignore the box of cereal on the counter but swat the ceramic coffee mug to the floor. Vomiting behind the couch so I wouldn't find it until I moved the sofa 6 months later to discover a suspicious brown lump crusted to the wood floor that I could only remove using a putty knife.
The first morning after we brought Bee home from the Humane Society, I woke up to the horrible stench of fresh doodie. I opened my eyes and looked around, assuming that Matt had crapped in the bed.
"My God, did you shit your pants?"
"That's the worst morning breath ever!"
"It's not me!"
"Why does it smell like poo?"
"It DOES smell like poo!"
We look around. I move the sheets. Everything looks clean, but I swear to God it smells like someone took a dump on my pillow. I jump out of bed, and look around the room. Then I get down on my knees and look under the bed. Directly underneath the headboard, wedged up against the wall is a gigantic cat turd. Fresh and fragrant and glistening. Bee is sitting in the corner looking up at me with her sweet kitty face, as if to say, "I didn't know where you put the litter box, so well...um, there it is."
Why do so many of my stories revolve around fecal matter? I really don't know.
But back to the cute/naughty theory: while most babies and kitties and puppies are cute, I don't think they can compete with the cutest creature of all. Otters. Which makes me wonder what they could be capable of.