3 year olds

One of my sons went through an identity crisis early on. At first it was real cute but soon became physically disabling to me! He believed he was a dog. He barked and growled at everyone. He would sniff people’s legs, their hands, and he’d lick their faces. If we hit him with a rolled up newspaper then he would whimper and whine. We even caught him eating dog food. He seemed to prefer Mighty Dog over Ken’l Ration. It was real cute till he turned on me. I was reading, and relaxed, when all of a sudden I felt teeth clamp down on my ankle and heard growling as flesh was being ripped from the bone on my leg. For a split second I thought I was being attacked by a rottweiller, no it was just my rottenson. We finally had to put a stop to his behavior when he started tearing up the newspapers and eating our shoes.
With that phase comfortably behind us he could explore and evolve into another phase of his social growth. He took a real interest in DINOSAURS! He became a…Tyrannosaurus Rex.
He would walk on his tiptoes, curve his middle and index fingers like claws and go on his rampage. He would screech at people, make kids cry, and needless to say I had to have my groceries brought in because I had been banned from all public places. I couldn’t even get a babysitter, every one was afraid of him.
When I was finally able to go back to the stores, I found my grocery bill going up. I kept thinking that inflation had risen to around 400%. It just so happened that mommy’s’ little helper was doing his own shopping. I learned not to take him in any stores unless he was properly restrained, in a straight jacket.
It is about this time that they are learning to throw real well. I would be reading, minding my own business when all of a sudden I would see stars all around me, but before I passed out I’d manage to look and he would be smiling ever so proudly. He had thrown a golf ball and hit me square in the forehead. "Oh say can you see those Stars and Stripes forever?" You bet, sign that kid up with the Brooklyn Dodgers.
Get that kid as far East as possible before he decides to throw something else. To this day I panic and go into panic attacks when I see golf balls.
I loved taking my children to church with me but heaven only knows why. I really wanted my people to believe that I had the best kids on the face of the earth. I used to fast and pray that their mouths and bodies be bound until church was over. It never happened, my children who I adored were so awful that people would come up to me after church and inquire, "Gee Mrs. Slater, maybe you ought to look into early baptism." I would try to explain that they were only 3 and that there was still hope. One Sunday my son decided he wanted to sing with the rest of the congregation and even if he didn’t know the words, he would fake everyone out by singing with enough zest and zeal like everyone else. You could hear all through the church him singing "Stupid, stupid, stupid" through the entire song.