"Why can't you just stay still for 2 minutes??????"

That's what I just begged/pleaded with The Man Child after a 10 minute cyclonic succession of emptying 4 kitchen drawers, dousing himself with water from the refrigerator door, dumping out the broken glass from would a vase he broke last night that I had stupidly left in an empty cup on the counter (yes, my bad, but freaking days why does he have to touch everything???), then finding the only door open in the entire house, the laundry room, and proceeded to dump out the entire content of a bottle of laundry detergent on the floor.

What amazes me is that he acts genuinely surprised when I get mad, and looks up at me with a face of madonna like innocence that says, "oh, did I do something wrong?". My dad would tell me that it is both age and developmentally appropriate, hence why we've all nicknamed him Dr. Phil and Barney and why I don't vent to him about the MC any more. As if knowing that what he's not the devil's spawn but just a normal, naughty two year old makes it any better. Here's the thing, until this last year I had no concept of what the terrible twos really are. The Fox and the Drama Queen blissfully glided through them with a few manageable tantrums but no real destructive or dangerous impulses ( I REALLY owe them a big time for that). I felt sorry for my friends and family members when they shared their horror stories, but I had no point of reference to be able to even begin to empathise with them.

Now I have my own personal 40 pound weapon of mass destruction. In the past 2 days alone the MC casualties of war are as follows:

-Broke a vase (already stated, but doesn't hurt to condemn him twice, right?)
-Threw a truck down the 2nd floor stairs and made a giant hole in the wall
-Rubbed his hands in the drying spackle that filled the hole that he made in the wall, so that it had to be reappplied
-Drew on the refrigerator door and shoe box with colored pencil (how is that even possible? He's been banned from crayons and markers but I though pencils would be safe. I guess he's coloring with water from now on)
-Broke my laptop (I'm not 100% sure that he did this one, but since I found him standing on the counter poking it, and the next day it was dead, I blame him. But the King got me this brand spanking new one, so I should really be thanking him but I'm not ready for that yet.)
-Dumped sticky blue laundry detergent all over the laundry room floor (again, a repeat)
-Dumped a bowl of milk all over the kitchen floor, well, dumped everything he has eaten or drank on the kitchen floor.

As I sit here typing and ignoring him, the MC asked asked to call his father 4 times. The first time, The King answered and the MC spent the next five minutes trying to convince him to convince me to "go for a walk" (for those of you who don't know, that means he wants to go for a ride). All I could hear The King say back is "ask your mom". Wow, I wish I could deflect and ignore him that easily. The phone went silent after that. MC got the voice mail three times, and he's smart enough to know that's not REALLY dad. He's now called again, and The King answered (ha ha) and MC is crying "GO FOR A WALK. DA DA. DA DA". I know I should feel bad for hitting redial over and over, but I can't help but giggle at the exchange between them. He should have to share my pain, don't you think?

Looking at his snot smeared, tear stained face, I almost feel bad for the kid. He really thought his dad would save him. But it's better this way. King and I have to be a team with this one- no "good cop bad cop" routine that worked with the other two. The only way we'll persevere is to stick together. It's okay to lose a few battles if we ultimately win the war.

"Man Child, put down that pen right now!"

Score: Mom/Dad:1 Man Child: 5000