I don't know why. It makes no sense to me. But then it must make some sort of sense to him. L. will not leave my framed family photos alone. I have them neatly adorning the top of my piano with a lovely vase of flowers. I go in, they are there, arranged artfully along the top ledge. I leave the room and come back and they are nowhere to be found. He keeps hiding them in different locations too, to throw me off the trail.
Just why do those photos bug him so badly I'll never know. Every time I find them and go to put them back, he protests. "Put it back!" he says. One of his weird, quirky habits like stuffing toys in any hole he can find. It use to disturb me when he took his Winnie the Pooh and slammed his head shut in the oven. Until we discovered he was just re-enacting the cartoon where Pooh gets stuck in Rabbit's hole.
It didn't end there. At school, a few years ago, he found a whole in the wall where the door knob had banged one too many times. He shoved all sorts of things in there. His aid Adrienne thought it was so funny when they finally patched it up. She said that when they demolish that building years from now, they will discover in the rubble all of those toys he stuffed in there. Maybe they'll be collectors items then?