Terrible twos you say? Meh.
Three has upped it’s game.
Three is the new two.
Three can make the cutest thing you’ve ever seen become the nastiest thing you’ve ever encountered. In seconds.
If a door with a handicap button can literally ruin your entire day, you are entering a building with a three year old. When someone touches the button before your three year old it’s over. MEGA meltdown. They lose their junk. And if the meltdown usually happens where your husband is employed, I feel sorry for you.
If your sister tries to give you a kiss and you punch her in the gut, you are three.
When you ask your child to do something and they yell back, “I’m working on it”, they are probably a three-nager.
If you collapse on the couch at night because you are physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted, and you question your existence because you went to college and your life has become a tiny person demanding you to fill his/her milk cup all day then you are a parent of a three year old.
When everything you EVER say is followed by “Why?”, you are raising a three year old.
You can’t rationalize with three. I’ve tried.
Four, I’m holding out for you.
Don’t let me down.
**No three year old was harmed in the taking of these unstaged photos**