Official onset of the supposed "terrrible twos"

I came home late last night.

Katy was beside herself: "He's been awful."
He cried and screamed through dinner.
Threw his food.
Pushed at furniture.
Threw toys.
When she reprimanded him at one point, he reached up and grabbed a fist full of food and smeared it on her pants as a way to reprimand her.
He kicked, stormed, ran away, and then I came home.
And we got him to bed ASAP

This morning, he decided he didn't want to be on the changing table.
Yes, God forbid we put these soft, clean clothes on you...
He grabbed my hand and while looking me in the eye, sunk his teeth into the fleshy part of my hand.

As Katy and I had discussed strategy last night, I put him into his first ever time out. Naked (wrapped in the towel), he sat in the corner for 60 seconds.
Crying ensued.
I ignored him except to say,
"You bit mommy and you're in time out."
When Katy got out of the shower, she heard about the biting and said, "We don't bite." He got a devastated look on his face, and we both tried hard not to comfort him.
"Yes, Mama," I said, "He had to go into time out."

When the minute was over, he was remarkably calm... on the changing table.

I think we have a spirited, free thinker on our hands, who might spend the next 20 years "testing" boundaries. But I consider this early attempt at discipline a smashing success.

I almost feel bad. The bite didn't really even hurt. It was the staring contest he initiated during the bite that made me feel like I needed to take action.