Um, sometimes as mothers we have to look back and laugh at some of the things that happen along the way. The time you caught your child pasting maxi-pads to the (OPEN) glass storm door on the front door, or the time you found that your daughter had phonetically "labelled" every item in the bathroom with your last post-it pad, or when she powdered every nook and cranny of her Fisher-Price desk with talcum powder that you never quite got out of all the cracks and crevaces.
Then more children come...the ones that dress up in pull-ups from head (and I do mean head) to toe, color the walls a shade that THEY like, empty an entire tube of blue toothpaste onto the carpet in the bathroom of the brand new house, and use duct tape to tape pictures to the newly-"re"painted walls.
Last night was a new one for me...
I walked into my child's room and stepped in something. Something squishy. Something STINKY and squishy. To what I uttered next, she replied, "That must have been _____." Of course. Not me. Them, but not me. Have you seen that scene in "Despicable Me" where the middle child goes, "Somebody broke that." Yep, that's what we had going on. Finally she fessed up, and I wish you could have seen the look on her face. Priceless! I cleaned myself and the floor up, told her it was okay to have an accident now and then, and then quietly closed my bedroom door to tell my husband what happened through stifled giggles.
Afterall, if I can't laugh at all this...well, then I just might not get out of it with all my wits.
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