Life with a two-year-old.

We started the day delayed and showed up at the the coffee house for breakfast with all of us starvin'.  We made our order and got a piece of sweet potato pie for immediate consumption.  Mozart wanted a brownie, but we'd tried to pick the most nutritious item in the case.  As it is given to us, he screeches, "NO! I want brownie!"  Mommy explains, "No brownies for breakfast.  You don't have to eat it, we will."  To which he screeches louder, "NOOO! My potato pie!"  He consumed the whole thing.

While breakfast was generally enjoyable, the lack of prompt food (and caffeine) generally put all of us in kind of a sour state.  We'd hoped to go to Mike's Maze, but between the non-listening skills and increased occurrence of the whine that happened during our morning errands, we opted to go home to nap instead.  On waking, we were all feeling much better and set out for the Pumpkin Fest.  Mozart got to ride a real school bus for the first time for the shuttle.  Both TW and I were amazed at how small the seats and aisles were, and were taken back to memories of childhood.  We had good times.  Mozart was recognized by more people than we were.  Popular kid.  We had pumpkin fries and pumpkin pizza.  We ran into Prancer, who we'd lost track of for a month or so.  It was good.  Then we caught the shuttle back.

Mozart, ever so excited to be getting on a bona fide school bus AGAIN, announces: "We are back!"
And then he put his hand directly on a young lady's breast and gave it a full groping.
I apologized profusely and whisked him along as fast as I could.

Now at the back of the bus, we were chatting with the folks in the next seat up.  Mozart took my finger and stuck it into his nose.  The lady I talking to guffaws, as I note that I've told him not to pick his nose, and then tell him that nobody should pick his nose, ever, unless in the bathroom.