So I made my way back in to the kitchen to see this on the floor. Smushed buns. His feet were still standing on them.
"Luke - WHAT were you thinking?", I ask in the sweetest Mom voice I could get out, which, as I recall, may have not been that sweet.
"Trying to reach, Mama", he says.
"Luke, buns do not make a good stepping stool."
I think he must have realized that himself, because he did not scream when he didn't get to open the microwave door himself, like any good, independant two year old would.
He gets the middle bun for lunch tomorrow!