Three Year Old From Hell

I should know by now that when my chair jumps three feet in the air it’s not an earthquake but is an SUV crashing into my trailer. I’ve been in more car accidents sitting at my desk than most people have in their life time. And I should know that it’s going to be a long day when I get to my office, look at the poster that’s been on the wall for a month and realize that it says I’m giving a talk in a week—oops. This moment of truth would have been easier swallow had it not been the morning after the attack of the three year old in desperate need of a light saber. Mom if you’re reading this let’s not ever send one lightsabrer to the house; clearly we need at least two if not three of all divine weapons. Jonathan’s new “holy grail” prompted my previously very sweet three year old—the one who wakes up singing and smiling spent most of the afternoon face down on the filthy kitchen floor screaming "I need a puple litesaba to shoot down the dawk side....." I’m pretty sure Anakin was out of diapers and could say R’s before he got a lightsaber …Jonathan was meanwhile huddled in the corner crying about Eli ruining his litesaber and hitting him--yes the big brother is starting to get beat up by the little brother. I give il picolino an A for sophisticated drama and vocabulary and for pushing his close enough to the edge that when Manuel arrived home to three screaming kids and asked me why I was sticking my tongue out at Eli. I actually responded "he started it...... " This may explain why at the talk I went to about Kant last night every time a nice French guy I was talking to lapsed into French I responded in Italian……And it may explain why the plan to come home after said talk and write a page of the book went out the window!