The other day I discovered Adrian carefully lining up cans of Mt. Dew on a diaper box and I had a quick internal dialogue as to what would be the proper course of parental action. The voice of reason spoke first and said, "Make him stop because soda cans aren't toys, he's going to drop them on his toes and get hurt, and the cans will explode and you'll have a sticky mess to clean up." Ok, that sounds reasonable. But then other voice chimed in and said, "Oh, how cute! Let's see what he does next." My curiosity got the better of me so I let him continue, eager to see where his curiosity would lead.
Uh oh...I know that look...it's the intoxicating blend of sugar and caffeine. But how did he open the can?
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQCsQCAF6ytuRQCufjdtm-CypQgM2E1zp7_p7GsH-lave-kNhn9sNBtTGizs5T2NRxjAhPLt7XnenIdL7K3RHaHfkMv0a2MGjoB-Ef6LN70uN73Ew2M4TF11VYPUVVk6mLfDOQrQ59EY4/s400/May+2011+092.jpg)
Oh. With his teeth.
At this point the voice of reason took over and I quickly removed all cans from Adrian's reach lest he break a tooth or something. And although this picture isn't from the Mt. Dew incident, I'm sure this is exactly how he felt towards me: