Swimming in Syrup

Yes, you read that right. We went swimming in syrup this morning. Dinner last night was French Toast and I made enough to have leftovers for breakfast. Despite going to bed at some insanely late hour for a three year old, the little hooligan was up with the sun. I needed to jump in the rain room before heading out for the morning carpool run, so I set the older two hooligans down with their breakfast, made sure the pantry and fridge were locked, and headed up for a quick shower. By the time I got downstairs the little bugger had two plates covered with gigantic puddles of syrup, one piece of toast with the middle eaten out swimming in the syrup on one of the plates, a massive syrup puddle on the table that was dripping onto the floor, drips and puddles on a chair, and the floor. Half a bottle of syrup all over my kitchen. The pill pushed a chair over, climbed up, unlocked the pantry, scaled the shelves and got the syrup down. Nice discovery 10 minutes before you need to pull out of the driveway.

Since getting home the little two emptied a bookshelf, dumped out the toys, made a picnic in the living room, splashed the toilet water all over the bathroom, adjusted the radio in Baby's room, took apart the cheese slicer, lost a piece, and have somehow managed to survive.

I think I need a padlock on my pantry and a cage in my living room.