On the first day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me a cabbage in a teapot.
On the second day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me two part chewed raisins, and a cabbage in a teapot.
On the third day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me three items of clothing removed from about The Baby's person, two part chewed raisins, and a cabbage in a teapot.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my toddler stole from me four handfuls of cereal out of my bowl, three items of clothing removed from about The Baby's person, two part chewed raisins, and a cabbage in a teapot.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me five fingers stuck in the letterbox again, four handfuls of cereal out of my bowl, three items of clothing removed from about The Baby's person, two part chewed raisins, and a cabbage in a teapot.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me six blankets no longer folded and residing in the drawer, five fingers stuck in the letterbox again, four handfuls of cereal out of my bowl, three items of clothing removed from about The Baby's person, two part chewed raisins, and a cabbage in a teapot.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my toddler hid for me seven DVDs down the back of the sofa, six blankets no longer folded and residing in the drawer, five fingers stuck in the letterbox again, four handfuls of cereal out of my bowl, three items of clothing removed from about The Baby's person, two part chewed raisins, and a cabbage in a teapot.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me eight books she required in her bed during nap time, seven DVDs down the back of the sofa, six blankets no longer folded and residing in the drawer, five fingers stuck in the letterbox again, four handfuls of cereal out of my bowl, three items of clothing removed from about The Baby's person, two part chewed raisins, and a cabbage in a teapot.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me nine tantrums a wailing, eight books she required in her bed during nap time, seven DVDs down the back of the sofa, six blankets no longer folded and residing in the drawer, five fingers stuck in the letterbox again, four handfuls of cereal out of my bowl, three items of clothing removed from about The Baby's person, two part chewed raisins, and a cabbage in a teapot.
On the tenth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me ten demands for lunch before 10am, nine tantrums a wailing, eight books she required in her bed during nap time, seven DVDs down the back of the sofa, six blankets no longer folded and residing in the drawer, five fingers stuck in the letterbox again, four handfuls of cereal out of my bowl, three items of clothing removed from about The Baby's person, two part chewed raisins, and a cabbage in a teapot.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me eleven photos of the carpet taken on my phone, ten demands for lunch before 10am, nine tantrums a wailing, eight books she required in her bed during nap time, seven DVDs down the back of the sofa, six blankets no longer folded and residing in the drawer, five fingers stuck in the letterbox again, four handfuls of cereal out of my bowl, three items of clothing removed from about The Baby's person, two part chewed raisins, and a cabbage in a teapot.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my toddler threw at me twelve imaginary cakes, eleven photos of the carpet taken on my phone, ten demands for lunch before 10am, nine tantrums a wailing, eight books she required in her bed during nap time, seven DVDs down the back of the sofa, six blankets no longer folded and residing in the drawer, five fingers stuck in the letterbox again, four handfuls of cereal out of my bowl, three items of clothing removed from about The Baby's person, two part chewed raisins, and a cabbage in a teapot.
Read the original post, and the adventures of The Toddler and The Baby, atR is for Hoppit