Sassafras

Max will be two next month. (Already?! But wasn't he JUST born?! No, as unbelievable as it seems, I have done the math on this several times, and Max is, in fact twenty-three months old.) He has evidently decided to be two with a vengeance. While his deep-rooted good nature does not allow for all that much in the way of terrible-twoness, he apparently has no moral qualms about being cheeky. When I am changing a diaper (which is often, by the way -- my world is ever so glamorous), he will steal the fresh diaper, run down the hall with it, and laugh like a maniac, screeching, "Mine! Mine! Mama's? Noooo Mine!" This has led, during many a rollicking diaper-retrieving chase-down, to various undesirable stains on various surfaces. When he does anything that he knows he is not supposed to be doing, he will look at me, laugh, and say, "No, no, Max! No, no Mama!" in an imitation of me that is (I admit it) both funny and accurate. I ask you, though -- should I have to put up with this level of attitude from so young an offspring? (You shush, Granny.)