Unraveled

Daddy couldn’t get home fast enough today. I’d had enough, and summarily deposited my toddler into his waiting arms.

This was after she’d grabbed my son’s packed lunch off the table, opened it and began dissecting his sandwich with her little fingers.

I suppose this wouldn’t have irritated me so much if I hadn’t just finished mopping the contents of an entire water bottle that she’d pulled from my daughter’s lunch box and poured all over the floor, ironically right where she was sitting in time-out for a previous transgression. I forget which one as the day was full of them.

Earlier, I caught her pulling all of the toilet paper off the roll in the downstairs bathroom where she was sitting on her potty supposedly going pee pee. By the time I realized she was suspiciously quiet, she had encircled herself and the potty in mounds of Charmin Extended Roll. She looked like a Baroque cherub floating on a fluffy cloud--feigned innocence and all.

I of course didn’t appreciate the artistic gesture and wadded it back up as best I could, not much caring at that point that I have a guest coming tomorrow who may need to use that bathroom. I hope my guest likes her toilet paper pre-unrolled.

The list of mayhem could go on…and on. Let’s just say we’ve had several time-outs today. Or rather she has and I sadly haven’t.  I can't wait for bedtime because right now, I'm about as unraveled as our downstairs bathroom toilet paper roll.