I wonder if when I look back at this picture in 20 years I'll remember the 20 pound bucket of flour she purposely dumped on the ground, or Carson's school project she scribbled on and ruined, or her deliberate emptying of the clothes from her drawers every day.
I'll just remember how cute it was when she tells me in her high pitched squeaky voice:
"I'm getting meh-weed in the temple."
Guess that means I better not sweat the small stuff.
This too shall pass, right mom?