It's not all to do with DS, but it triggered it. We had to cancel his birthday outing because he refused to get onto the bus (bloody London bus drivers are far from sympathetic too which doesn't help)
We got back home soaking wet and as I was changing DD he put my shoes into the washing machine and set it going. They are the only flat shoes I have so I'll have to struggle in heels all weekend.
He just said 'sorry mummy' and then cracked DD hard on her head with the tv remote.
All my lovely visions of his birthday are reduced to crap.