This has pretty much been the face and par for the course in the Jeter household the past few days:
It's like someone stole our child and possessed him with some sort of demon.
Or maybe Mystic keeps sneaking candy up to his room, so he's just totally high on sugar.
Either way, I'm ready for this recent attitude to pass.
Being told to "shut up" by your 3-year-old in the mall isn't always the best experience.
Especially when you have to drop everything you are doing---because your inner mother tells you to do so---just to take him home and put him in time out.
It's even better when he screams and cries the whole way home because he didn't want to leave the mall.
Oh, three.
You really are a horrible number.
I'm ready for four.
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