This is what my almost two year old's breakfast looked like at our house today.
I served Tiny her breakfast in one of my very favourite 'Tres Bon' New Zealand made vintage bowls. Big mistake. She walked over - tipped out the contents. I raced over to rescue the bowl, but before I could get there, she really did toss it on the ground and ker-smasho.
This has pretty well set the scene for the rest of our morning.
I thought the terrible twos were an urban myth. A horrible urban myth. The Doctor never went through them. But apparently Tiny is here to set the record straight. The terrible twos are a no-good-horrible-very-bad-very-real-ugly-hard-to-live-with-terrible-awful-insidious-honest-to-goodness truth. As further testament I have no hair after pulling it out.
The end.
