Where's Avi? The whole neighborhood wants to know.

Today, Avi hid in the bike trailer in the garage knowing full-well that I thought he had left the backyard unaccompanied and without permission (which he had indeed done just a few minutes earlier). Not finding him anywhere in the house or backyard, I proceeded to spend the next 20 minutes screaming his name frantically at full-panic volume and running all around the neighborhood alerting anyone who crossed my path that should they see a three year old in rainbow tye-die, he's supposed to be at 23rd and Alder. I was a mess. Then I was furious when I knew he was safe in the garage. Why did he hide? He was annoyed because I had told him that he would have to pick up all the black foam pieces that he had bitten and ripped and shredded across the back yard. I told him to stop while he was doing it, but he didn't, so I told him he would have to pick it up. That didn't appeal to him, so he thought he'd get even with me or something.

That was just the most dramatic event of the day. All the other major things pale in comparison. It was the kind of day that made me think someone's going to cart me away to the mental hospital (as if we actually have those any more in this time of budget crisis) before the summer's out.