You have to love three year olds. I woke little Jeremiah up from his nap, and needless to say, he wasn't pleased. However, when he finally got over the tragedy, he was cheery enough to offer the chance to smell his "man breath." When I asked him whether it smelled good, he looked at me like I was crazy, before replying very exasperatedly, "No, it's smelly!
It definitely beat the day that I went to put Tony to sleep, and he tried to punch me. And put boogers in another teacher's hair. And bit the co-teacher. Three year olds are a strange, crazy bunch.