This morning we were wondering why the pull-out shelf of the computer table (where we keep the keyboard) was bent. We all assumed that Little Man had sat on it and bent it.
A few hours later we were having lunch and heard a loud crash. We all turned around to see Little Lady standing in amongst this with her mouth open. Her gran piped up that she stands on the shelf every day to get to my scissors.
Of course our yelling and empty threats had no affect at all. I keep consoling myself with the thought that they are nowhere near as bad as I and my siblings were as children. Not even close.