What can I say? I have very weird children. Tonight Musicman made supper while I worked on putting laundry away and sweeping the bedrooms. He’s a great cook and will make someone a fine husband someday as I had him do his own laundry tonight too! That’s right. He cooks and does laundry. Throw some house cleaning in there some where and I will have earned the Mother-in-law-to-be award…righttttt. However, he fixed an excellent meal that everybody ate well from and even unloaded the dishwasher to boot. I did mention that I’m house training him?
After dinner, we had ice cream. Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. The kind that makes you swoon after one spoon full and makes Pickles eat it with her hands because it’s faster and she can’t get enough. So, dinner and dessert tonight. My children should be full. Especially since I saw Pickles sneak part of a cookie that I had made over the weekend. She must be growing.
After all food was eaten, time to get back on laundry and sorting out the linen closet. Noodles decided that helping Mommy was a great idea. Pickles was playing in their bedroom right next to the linen closet…or so I thought. About halfway though the closet, I noticed that it was very, very quiet. The kind of quiet when you know something good is not happening. The kind that immediately tells you that Pickles must dumping the cat food into their water dish again to make cat food soup. The kind where you search the house frantically looking for said child before a bigger mess is made than you want to deal with on a Monday night. Yeah, that kind of quiet.
As, I enter the living room, I hear slurping. The kind when you know what you have is really good and you need to eat it quick. For me, that would be a pineapple whip ice cream cone on a hot summer day. For Pickles, you just have to look and see. Too many things are possible for her. So I follow the sounds of the slurping, yet I don’t see a child anywhere in the living room. Until I hear the giggle coming from behind the blind in the bay window. Followed by more slurping. As I push the blind out of the way, I come face to face with Pickles covered in butter. Not just a little butter either. Enough that it’s all over her face, hands, chest (I did mention that she doesn’t like clothes right?) and even some in her hair. Sitting in the bay window, with the small tub of butter, eating it like it’s going out of style. I ask her why she’s eating the butter in the window. She replies, “I’m hungry. I eat the butter.” Butter…it’s NOT supposed to be for dinner. Sometimes, it just happens without warning.
PS Please don’t think we encourage her to eat butter straight from the tub. We’ve been using a 50 lb bag of flour to keep her out of the fridge. I had moved it tonight to get a box out to the garage and forgot to put it back. She realized the fridge was open and there ya go, butter. At least it wasn’t an entire brick of mozzarella cheese!