One boy, boy for sale. He's going cheap.

I worked from the house for part of the day today while Charlie was on kid-duty. By 8:30 AM, he leaned his head in to my office (aka: dining room) and asked how much I thought a set of cute triplets would fetch us on e-Bay.

From the moment William came out of his crib this morning, he has been a terror. Infact, if this keeps up tomorrow, I'm taking him to a church to have him dunked in Holy water to rid him of the poltergeist that has obviously inhabited his body.

He would throw himself on the floor in a full body temper tantrum if anyone so much as looked at him. He wanted more pancakes - but when I gave him more pancakes - he threw his plate across the table and screamed. He'd kick his legs when you'd try to pick him up, he'd kick his legs when you tried to put him down. Forget about trying to get him dressed ... there was no way he was going to wear anything. When his sister's came within two-feet of him ... he would run at them with his arms flailing and fists clenched.

Truly, a joy to be around.

At one point, he noticed that he had a microscopic scratch on his hand that needed a boo-boo bunny. No, it needed a band-aid. AND a boo-boo bunny. But not the blue boo-boo bunny, the yellow one.

No, the blue one.

He had an even more microscopic cut on his foot that needed a boo-boo bunny. The yellow one AND the blue one. And, the boo-boo bear. And a band-aid. But, it was only after a solid 45-minutes of trying everything under the sun to appease him ... that I figured out what he needed. Oddly enough, I have a really hard time deciphering "MOMMY. NOOOOOO!!!!!"

When his demeanor had not improved throughout the morning or after his nap, and I could see Charlie was at his wits end, I loaded him in his carseat and took him with me to the office for the rest of the day.

That's right.

I took the suddenly ghoulish child with me to work - leaving Charlie at home with our two angelic daughters - who were still sleeping. That act alone, should alleviate me of any guilt, when I request that my husband fetch me chicken chow-mein at 10:49 PM ... or startle him awake with "HOLY SH*T, I'M DYING!!!" at 2:15 AM when I need him to massage out the intense leg cramps that paralyze me.

Although William's attitude slightly improved while at the office ... I've decided it's really hard to get any work done with a 28-month old child running free. While I took 3 minutes and 17 seconds to print out a few documents ... William got a hold of a red indelible magic marker and painted warstripes on his face. He then unloaded a box of 5,000 rubber bands on the floor, removed a large portion of soil from my potted plant, called someone in India, dumped a box of binder clips in to the printer tray, and unraveled 25 meters of double-sided scotch tape.

In 3 minutes and 17 seconds.

When I came home from the office with William and his warstripes, the girls were happily playing with their dolls and Charlie was savoring an afternoon cup of coffee. Apparently, he had enjoyed a long bike ride with them earlier, in the new bike trailer.

I need to come up with something better than chinese food and a massage.

William returned to his possessed self as soon as we stepped foot in the door. Tonight, we had all three of them fed and in bed by 6:25 PM. Approximately an hour earlier than normal.

Perhaps William is taking out his frustration at me for trying to save a buck by giving him another hair cut yesterday. I'm actually afraid to post pictures of what I did to my beautiful son's golden locks. Luckily - he looks good in a hat.

But, if we are ever going to make the mortgage payment on the new house we're making an offer on this weekend ... every dollar counts. And if William doesn't shape up, and a dip in Holy water doesn't help, he might find himself on e-Bay by Saturday.