Having a 2.5-year-old in the throes of the terrible 2's puts everything into perspective, such as the stainless steel IKEA knives rusting in the drawer and the dust bunnies frolicking in the hallway. I don't care that there's an exposed nail where the picture fell down and broke or that my refrigerator has smears of tiny little hands. Uhm, whom am I kidding?
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