Why 8 pm is my favorite time of the day

Eight PM is Aiden's bedtime. That's why it's my most favorite time of the day.

Everyone says that age two is the bad age, you know, the "terrible two's." But I beg to differ. Age 3 is much more difficult. It's like the terrible two's on steroids. Two possible reasons for this:

Reason #1: They are smarter by now and use more thinking and logic. (Notice I did not say A LOT of logic. Just some logic...more than when they were 2.)

Reason #2: They know how to get around...open doors, get into the fridge, climb up the counters without a chair or stool. Basically, they know where to find things.

I'm not sure what was going on today, but it just didn't end. Well, it actually started yesterday. Unfortunately I didn't document it, but just image an entire tube of brand new Diego blue tooth paste squirted all over in your bathroom sink. Big blue snakes, as Aiden put it. Didn't have time to clean it right then because we had a doctor's apointment. I shut the door to deal with it when I got home later. Now, here's the learning lesson...toothpaste dries out. So by the time we got home it was sticky like honey and took FOREVER to clean up. I smelled like bubble gum the rest of the day.

When Aiden snuck the chocolate syrup out of the fridge at lunchtime today and gave himself a generous serving to dip his hotdogs, carrots and apples in, I grabbed the camera and decided to make the most of the situation.




While I was getting dinner ready I thought he was in the office with Thomas. Nope, he was in the bathoom, completely unsupervised for...I have no idea how long. He was completely naked from the waste down; he must have been going potty and got distracted.


And it didn't end there. At dinner time he wouldn't eat his chicken cacciatore. He said, "It's not good to kids, Mommy. It only good to Daddys." Instead, his milk was spilt all over the table.



I'd had enough. I was hoping for an early bedtime. While we were cleaning up dinner he ran out the door, yes, lovely in his pjs and rainboots. He was down on the sidewalk in front of our house waving at the cars going up and down the street when I caught up with him.

And doing somersaults, too.

My good neighbor, Tracy, saw me outside and came over to return his UNDERWEAR he left over there earlier in the day. Yes, my child was underwear-less for hours this afternoon and I didn't even know it. No wonders he didn't have any underwear on while playing in the bubbles. He didn't have any to put on!

So while Tracy and I are talking I turn around to see him stripped down and going pee on our front lawn. At this point I was too tired to bother. So instead of stopping him I whipped out the camera and snapped a photo.

It's a good thing days come to an end. It reminds me of what Miss Stacy told Anne Shirley as they were walking home from school one afternoon:

"Tomorrow is always fresh, without any mistakes in it."

I'm hopefull tomorrow will be better.