This is a highly scientific illustration of what happened to me on Sunday at dinnertime.
Following on from Saturday's day of loveliness as described in my post Just So Great, Sunday was not so good. The kids fought all day and my son in particular turned into some sort of ferral animal. Specifically an animal that constantly roars & shouts, finds it hillarious to loudly and publically describe our baser bodily functions, bounces all over the furniture and its parents and generally is as rough, out of control and noisy as is possible. This ferral animal is better known as a three and a half year old boy. My son's button pushing behaviour usually hovers around levels 1 - 2, but Sunday was a level 4 day.
So I had endured a day of bad behaviour and tantrums and looking back this was not an auspicious time in terms of my hormone levels. Whilst I usually function around level 1, Sunday was definately also a level 4 day.
After a final dinner-time battle to get my recalcitrant son to eat my lovingly prepared, home made roast vegetable lasagne, I snapped.
I took the plate of lasagne and in a fit of pique, without a shred of forethought or analysis, I threw it into the garden through the patio doors in our kitchen. Unfortunately by this time my son was already heading out of the doors thinking he could wisely use the time he would have otherwise spent eating to play outside. Suffice to say the pasta from the hurled plate did connect with my son's head (fortunately not the plate itself), and he was left open mouthed and slightly stunned by my bad behaviour.
After a few moments of fuming 'mummy-time-out' I managed to calm down and explain to my son that whilst clearly I should not have started a food fight, his behaviour had really not been very good, and we should both try harder in future.
Coinciding level 4 days are not our better ones.