I've tried to be patient. I really have. I've counted to ten, sometimes even to 100. I've taken deep breaths. I've even walked away but being the mother of a two year old requires more than patience. It requires a back brace, valium, padded rooms, massage therapy, pain killers and pyschiatric care.
Next week I'm removing all the furniture from the house, including the refrigerator and having the walls lined with padding so that my child, who bounces off the walls even without the help of sugar can remain uninjured until he's old enough to start playing football.
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