T is usually really well behaved, attributed to luck and some good parenting, I like to think. Having a kid in my late thirties definitely makes so much more patient than I would have been if I had one in my early twenties.
On that note, I was standing in the kitchen talking to John, when suddenly I had a (literal) pain in my ass - my right butt cheek more specifically, where Little Mister had taken it upon himself to bite a chunk out of my derriere.
OW.
I yelled in pain. John started yelling because he didn't know why I was yelling.
T ran away and left me to tend to my wounded butt myself.