Sunday, November 15, 2009

Cupcakes

Apparently this morning Toby wanted to make some cupcakes. I had the Christmas Funfetti Cupcake mix on the counter and I guess he was inspired. Here are the events that transpired, or at least what we have put together through the evidence he left behind.

8:00 (or so) Toby wakes up, busts the child lock in half that is on his door, and gets out his room by himself.

He walks into the kitchen and sees the cupcake mix on the counter...he thinks to himself "I really want some of those cupcakes, I will just make them before anyone gets up so I can eat them all myself."

He then grabs a chair, pushes it over to the counter, and grabs a filet knife out of the drawer. (This part scares me to death, what if he fell off the chair with the knife...thank God for watching over my crazy man-child while I am not) He proceeds to try and cut the box open with the knife, taking several slivers out of the side of the box and making a little slit in his finger in the process. (Again, thank God that was all that happened)

8:15 (or so) He then realizes that he's not going to get the box open, so he will just get out the ingredients instead, and worry about the box later. He puts the filet knife back in the drawer (the wrong way with the pointy end still slightly sticking out of the drawer) and goes to the refrigerator. Since everyone knows, even a 2 year old, that you need eggs to make cupcakes he thought he would get those out too. He drops about 5 eggs onto the ground and realizes that this his 2 year old hands might not be up to the job. So he dutifully picks up all the egg shell and throws them in the trash, but leaving the yokes all over the floor. (Cause really, who wanted to clean up slimy egg yokes)

By 8:30 (or so) he is tired from all this attempted baking, so he goes into the living room, turns on the tv, and watches some random show until Kevin got up with Liv.

I seriously don't know how I am going to do this raising a boy thing, it is turning out to be MUCH harder than raising a girl, not to mention more dangerous. He destroys everything he touches, gets dirty doing everything, and only wants me to kiss him once a week. I have a feeling that my muay thai-ing, girl pushing, door slamming, "rocket" peeing, loud voiced, super speed boy is going to test my soul till the day I die. And even with all that, I still can't believe that I could love a little boy as much as I do this one. For that one kiss a week, totally eclipses all the other stuff. Oh the love of a little boy.

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