My brother Steve in the midst of his terrible twos. Helen snapped this shot in Steve's Redwash bedroom. Like all two-year-olds Steve was a handful but I submit he was more terrible than most. One of my mother's favorite horrible Steve stories took place in this very bedroom. One day my mother ordered Steve to put all his toys in his toybox (seen here). He refused so she said he had to stay in his room until he picked up his toys. Steve had a fit and about thirty minutes into his confinement a neighbor called my mom and said Steve was throwing everything in his bedroom out the window. When my mother got to his bedroom he was in the process of trying to cram the crib through the window.