While we were staying with my in-laws, I realized things were oddly quiet and I called out for my two-year-old. He answered, and I found him in my father-in-law's bedroom playing with a bottle of prescription ear medicine, with the cap off.

I was immediately terrified, and tried to find out if he swallowed it. He and I then conducted the following ridiculous interrogation scene...

Me: What did you do with this?

Him: I PUT IT IN DA BELLY BUTTON.

Me: Okay... did you put it in your mouth?

Him: .... yeah.

I couldn't tell if he was telling the truth, so I pressed on.

Me: Did you put it on your foot?

Him: No.

Me: Did you put it in your... nose?

Him: No.

Me: Did you put it in your... mouth?

Him: ... yeah.

Shit! He really did it.

I looked up the number for poison control and called. They really knew their stuff. The woman was immediately able to tell me that the medicine wasn't toxic. She was also highly amused at the belly button answer.

Calling Poison Control was such a pleasant experience that I was actually looking forward to calling them again 5 days later when he walked into the kitchen carrying a giant tub of Vaseline.

Me: What are you doing with that?

Him: I EATIN' IT!

This kid is out of control. You know those scenes where raccoons break into the cabin and wreck the kitchen in minutes, eating anything they can? That's him.

I wasn't too panicked about this one, but the jar did say that if gets eaten that I should call my buds back at Poison Control.

I did, and they said it was no big deal, but he might experience a mild laxative effect.

Good. Serves him right for making me experience one when I walked in and found him with the bottle of fucking ear medicine.