Dday

Today i took Dday and Partners in Crime (the twins) to the park.  Dday gets his name as you can guess from being in ultimate destruction mode, at all times.  Grandpa calls the grand kids "little terrorist," this too accuracy describes my daily plight.  Today that two {three days away from three years} year-old decided to plop his sandals {almost brand new mind you} into the pond while feeding ducks.  Dday!!! Argh.  I realize looking back on it now, that this was quite the science experiment for him.  It began with squishing his little toes into the only five-square inch area of mud around in the grass, followed by "Mommy i need my shoes off! Me replying "there's yucky duck poo all over Dday, you gotta wear your shoes" and cleaning them off with a water bottle cleaning that was not satisfactory for this two year-old. Followed by the first shoe...plop...in the duck poop invested water!  It was quite a surprise to him that that darn shoe would float.  And of course I said "Dalt, please take off your other shoe and give it to momma."  I should have known better, but remember I'm new to this TERRIBLE Threes Things {terrible twos are a lie}! The experiment of throwing-there she floats-was way too entertaining.  Dday threw shoe two into the water.  Time for the crime-- uh-oh {timeout} spot had to be improvised right there on that park tree.  Oh Dday, the asylum is calling my name.  I love you and will never understand how someone learned to push my buttons the way you do. The {brand new} shoes are gone, he has an arm that one.  He threw just far enough where even the best fisherman couldn't catch those things without a fishing pole! To say the least I was not willing to lay my belly on that duck poo invested cement and scoop those things out. Bon Voyage little blue sandals!