Owen, Maisy, and I play this game called “Party.” This game is simple. We put pom poms in a muffin tin and a pot and make dinner and dessert for our party guests (an assortment of stuffed animals).
So, here we are, playing party, and I whipped out the old iPhone to document that one time my children played together.
In retrospect I should have realized those are not party time toddler hands, but hands that are about to jack up his sister for getting all up in his muffin tin.
Here is the aftermath, literally 5 seconds later.
Living with a three year old is wearying, befuddling, terrifying, did I mention exhausting? It’s basically like living with a giant sour patch kid.
First they’re sour, then they’re sweet.