Drew loves to try to move things that are much too heavy for him.  When he fails to initiate any forward momentum it usually results in a fountain of frustrated crocodile tears. 

Fresh from the shower, I was toweling off in the closet while Drew giggled and laughed as he tried on my fuzzy slippers.  Then he spied it... the 5 gallon Ozarka jug overturned with its spout up so that it was the world's best piggy bank.  Boy what an interesting thing -- I think I need it -- I'm sure that's what he was thinking.  He tried and tried to move it... no success. I, of course, was telling him that it was too heavy and that mommy wasn't moving it.  It got quiet and then I just assumed he accepted my "mommy knows best" response until the wail of the century came.  Did I respond? Of course not... I calmly told him that I wasn't going to move it that it was too heavy and that he needed to leave it alone.  Did he listen?  No.. he kept screaming... louder and louder and louder... until I realized.. this was something other than I can't move this big freakin jug of coins... he was stuck!

Yep, he was stuck like a pig and just screaming blood curdling screams to me.  I calmly removed his hand from the spout and looked at the pretty purple impression he'd made from trying to bend it in a direction it wasn't intended to go.  He was like... "oh, was that all I needed to do".. come here mama...let me wipe my runny nose on your shirt.. I need a hug. 

If that only made life all better for everyone.