The Little Destroyer

Years ago, I chuckled silently at a friend calling his son "the little destroyer". I guess it's obvious I'm not getting the last laugh since my very own can now claim the title for himself.

For the last five years, we have managed to keep our furniture in tip top condition. Considering that the house is predominantly done up with wood, I'd say we've done a pretty good job. At the back of my mind, I was even going to the extent of requesting for a high resale price, if the situation ever occurs. But ever since our little friend here started pulling himself to standing, things have not been the same.

The coffee table now sports a bumpy surface, thanks to daily knocks by the taxi and other toys with edges. The legs of the tv console, dining table, dining chairs and day bed are slightly chipped here and there, due to constant crashing of his toy vehicles. Our private sanctuary, the master bathroom, sees a large mirror with its bottom wooden edge disintegrating, with full credit given to our friend's daily splashing of water when we're giving his hands or butt a wash.

The latest to add to the list is the standing fan in the living room. In the twinkling of an eye, gabe has managed to crash the appliance onto the floor, breaking one rotary wing. Needless to say, the unhurt boy got it from his parents.

Argh... I hope to say that this is the last of it, but we all know it's only just begun...