My little child. I love you. Your white baby mullet, your big smile, the way you pretend to eat chalk by making chomping noises. You are sweet and loving and funny most of the time, BUT there are some things about you that are driving your Momma crazy.
So, if you could, please read and retain the following instructions:
The street is not for playing in. There is a perfectly good playground in front of you. Why can't you just stay on it instead of trying your best to play chicken with the mail truck?
Stop destroying things outside of our home. I'm still giving you free reign over my bookshelf, the pantry and Frankie's dog food, but I'm going to have to ask you to stop pulling the clothes off of shelves in stores, dropping plates of food onto the floor and trying to swim in the Pacific everytime we go to the beach.
If you want to give up your morning nap, I understand, but you must sleep for two hours in the afternoon, precisely, the two hours during which your brother is sleeping.
Please stop hitting your head on things.
Water belongs in the bathtub, not on the floor.
Speaking of water, here are the following things I have found in the toilet that do not belong there: train tracks, the remote control, a half eaten cookie, Chuck the Truck, a magazine and your shirt.
The stove is dangerous, stop trying to turn it on.
Ketchup is for dipping, not spreading around your tray like finger paint.
I admire your curiosity and bravado, but it can make for a very long day for all of us. So just try to bring it down a notch. Thanks in advance.