Take your speech therapy and shove it.

Yesterday afternoon, Camden's therapist arrived (15 minutes late, of course!) armed with a puzzle and lots of toy bugs.

I had previously mentioned to her how much Camden enjoys puzzles these days so I was impressed that she remembered that comment made in passing and thought to bring him a puzzle to work on. Only this puzzle? Was probably better suited for a pre-schooler. It was a tad more complicated than the Melissa & Doug puzzles that Camden has become a fan of (read: it was a traditional puzzle, rather than the kind where you match the piece to a picture or color beneath it). Camden became frustrated with her puzzle in about 2.6 seconds and promptly picked up a few pieces and walked from the room. I was curious what he was up to, as he was looking back at us over his shoulder as he walked away, grinning widely. And then I heard the trashcan lid open and close and I realized the fate of her puzzle pieces.

Fast forward 10 minutes. We had moved on to playing with bugs (after trashcan diving for puzzle pieces). To her credit, Camden loved the bugs. He loved "catching" them with a magnet and he loved putting them into a container that he could open and close. Still, he felt the need to show her who was boss. Armed with a couple of bugs in hand, Camden laughed as he ran down the hallway, throwing backward glances at us over his shoulder once again. When he made a sharp turn into the bathroom, I jumped up and ran after him. Alas, I was too late. Plop, plop plop. I made it to the bathroom just in time to see a green plastic grasshopper and a red spider floating in the toilet.

I could practically hear Camden gloating: Take your speech therapy and shove it, lady!