Friday, November 21, 2008
In the minutes it took me to make a bed upstairs, my boys found some really old candy. (Left over from toilet training Cooper almost 2 years ago!) When I started down the stairs, I could tell something was up. You see, there's a certain silence when you're about to find a colossal mess, an overflowed toilet, poop water in your basement, or little boys eating their weight in candy. A creak on the second to last step broke that silence and sent Cooper scurrying. In his haste he ran right into me.
I'm not sure if it's a gene that all children come equipped with, or not. But he immediately started to squirm his way out of trouble. "I only ate 13, but Mason is still eating. I bet he's going to eat 100. You should go see and send him to time out."
Go see is exactly what I proceeded to do. I didn't have the heart to tell them that they could have just asked for some nice, decently fresh Halloween candy. It was too fun watching their jaws strain under the pressure of, "Must eat this hardened candy before mom realizes how much is in my mouth."