Coffee, it's my favorite.

So, I'm walking down the hall with a fresh, steaming cup of coffee.  I reach into the hall closet for a few diapers because we're getting ready for a birthday party.  Ethan decides to push the door closed just as I'm grabbing diapers, and since he doesn't do anything gently, the door slams into my coffee-holding hand and throws steaming hot coffee all down the front of me.  Of course, I just got dressed.  Not only did it burn, my clothes are now soaked, down to the skivvies, in coffee.  Luckily, we really have two hours before we even need to leave (we were going to deliver leftover Ethan-birthday-cake to family) - so now all my clothes are in the washer.  I will be adult, and not tell you how mad I was at Ethan.  I literally had just gotten dressed, walked out, poured coffee, and walked back with it to start packing for the party.  Dressed.  Coffee.  Coffee on me.  Mad some?  Yes, but just don't tell anyone that I am immature, and angry at my two-year-old for being a two-year-old.  I told him he had to stop being a burden.  Livea said "what does that mean?"  I told her, and then she said "what happens if he doesn't know how to stop being a burden?"  Uhh, then maybe I'll learn patience?  tee hee.