Today it seemed like my house was hit by a tornado over and over again. Of course, it wasn't a real tornado, just Max. As I was trying to clean up the breakfast dishes, he found my pile of newspapers and decided to "read" them all, tossing them around when he was finished. Then when I was collecting laundry, he managed to take my accumulating pile and toss each piece down the basement stairs. Then when I was cleaning up all the lunch he threw all over the floor (a common mealtime occurence), he went into a drawer and took out all the plastic bowls and cups I stored there. When Cameron and I tried to play a "catching fish" game, Max took all our fish and tossed them to the floor, and then managed to grab the pile of photos I just had developed and flung them amongst all the fish. I finally decided to get him out of the house for a walk. When I was upstairs changing, he managed to pull all the clothes out of the suitcase (which I hadn't unpacked from last weekend), and then proceeded to pull all clothes out of my bottom drawer.
During our walk, my husband came home to this tornado torn house (although I had cleaned up much of it, along with the toys spread all over, I just couldn't get it all....and I just wanted to get out of the house before any more disasters occurred.) I'm sure as he glanced around our house he figured that I must have sat on the couch all day watching soaps and eating bon-bons while Max wreaked havoc on our home.