This morning I turned from my breakfast to see every bottom cabinet in the kitchen was open. It was either a passive aggressive ghost a la Sixth Sense or my son. Thankfully it was the latter, and I found him trying to drink a (sealed) bottle of dish soap. The child clip hadn't been put back in it's place. (seriously, the one cabinet that needs it!!)
"Sorry, buddy, you can't have this." He protests. I put away the soap, close the door and replace the child safety device. He pulls himself up to it and starts messing with it; he's very persistent. "May the force be with you."
He gave up and decided to bother his sister instead.
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