That is how many seconds it takes a one-and-a-half year old to open a box of 750 toothpicks and dump them onto the floor before her mother gets the chance to stop her. Ugh!
She loves to pull up a chair to the counter to "help" me, and I use that term very loosely, while I'm cooking. I had just finished icing some cupcakes for Elizabeth's spur of the moment birthday sleepover (due to soccer on the weekends, she had a sleepover on Thursday night because the kids had no school Friday for teacher development. It was two weeks before her actual birthday, but we pulled it off in about a week-and-a-half). I stuck the toothpicks in the cupcakes, covered them with plastic wrap, and walked thirteen steps into the dining room when I heard, "ping, ping, ping, ping...." about, oh, 725 times before realizing what Destruct-o-Girl was up to. I came running into the kitchen to find this lovely scene:
