Typically kids wait until they are in their teenage years before they start consciously trying to ruin the lives of their parents. Not mine.
My little one has it in for me, I know it. I know this because he is purposefully and intentionally plotting my decline into insanity. It began quite innocently and I never saw it coming. One day, he crawled into the kitchen, opened the cupboard door ("oh, look! He opened it all by himself! Awwww...), and proceeded to pull all of my Tupperware out. I thought it was no big deal; they aren't breakable and he's having so much fun! Little did I know that it was the beginning of the end.
From that day forward, he has done everything he can to slowly push me over the edge. I step into the laundry room (which is right off the kitchen) to put a load in the washer, only to hear the sound of little plastic containers hitting the ground. It's gotten to the point where he's pulling them out at least three times a day. I tried to explain to him that this is showing some addictive tendencies but he won't listen. From the Tupperware he has moved into the laundry room for his next fix. He pulls all the shoes from the shelves. With six people living in this home; that's a LOT of shoes. His sister feeds his growing addiction, too. She may be the one who turned him on to all of this. She'll open their older brother's bedroom door to allow him access to the bookshelves and DVD shelf. Here is where he really goes crazy. He throws books to the floor and laughs his sinister laugh. When they are all on the floor and scattered around the room, he moves into the walk-in closet- with his sister's help, of course. He empties the DVD shelf in a matter of seconds then carries several movies of the room to me; full of pride. The children know I alone have to clean up these messes. The know that in between cleaning, laundry, working, studying, cooking and attending school, the last thing I need is to pick up all the Tupperware, shoes, books and DVD's that we own, which are now laying in a haphazard pile in the middle of the floor. But they do it. And they laugh about it. They know that one of these times will be the time that my brain can't handle any more and it just snaps.