Hurricane Quinten

The look in his eye. The milk in his hair. Meet Hurricane Quinten.

I came home from a run on Friday and Quinten was sitting on the kitchen table. He'd dumped an entire box of Cheerios onto the table and had filled up a cup of water in the bathroom where there is a stool and drizzled the water over the giant pile of O's. He had found a spoon, clean or dirty I couldn't tell you, and went about eating his massively satisfying breakfast. The massively satisfied grin on his face said it all. Hurricane Quinten strikes again!!

ps - dad was asleep on the couch...........