Apparently the naughty child has stayed home with me today.
Usually, it's R pushing my buttons. M, just shy of turning 2 (14 days to go!) has perhaps (I say perhaps because maybe today's antics are a blip) entered the terrible twos phase.
This morning was going swimmingly. As usual, I was harrassing R to get dressed. Seriously, how hard is it when your clothes have been laid out for you? I was organised, I'd made lunch, packed R's lunchbox, put a load of washing on, got dressed, got M dressed, checked R's schoolbag. I neglected to see M push the chair up to the kitchen bench and reach for the ...
Sat down to read a book on the couch or something. Then I noticed it. A squidged up bag of red, tan, and yellow. Which was... Rory's lunch. M had emptied R's lunchbox. His staple "tomato and cheese sandwich" was ruined. Perhaps what set me off more was that we don't have any tomatoes from the garden, sadly on their way out, and now I'd have to make the sandwich all over again.
I blew up. Those kids didn't know what hit 'em. The lounge was tidied up promptly, the naughty child became quite quiet and offered apologetic hugs to anyone.
Crisis over, lunch remade, off to school. Out and about to do errands, home again and proceeded to hang out the washing. Then M decides emptying the packet of lawn seeds his father has left on the porch all over the concrete is a fantastic idea. So again, he's in trouble and made to sit by himself whilst I sweep it all up and PUT IT AWAY.
It's nearly lunchtime and M will be served that mangled lunch. If things come in threes, I dread to think what this afternoon holds in store.