Things that have a two year old's signature on them.

Hiding all of my refrigerated condiments under the couch.

Sticking legos in the fire starter thing. A very dramatic lego man at that.

Crumbling pricy bath soap all over my carpet. My bedroom smells very "tropical rain"-like.

A gum-induced hair cut. (To be fair this was not actually self-inflicted. Him and Reagan were wrestling and it fell out of Reagan's mouth. At least that was the story I was told.)

So you may ask where is his negligent mother when all of this goes down? The answer is chasing this monkey down all scalable surfaces.