Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The trouble with cuteness
This morning as I was looking over my email Desmond came into the living room with his arms covered in flour asking "is this for dogs mom, is this for dogs mom?" over and over. I'm not sure why he wondered if it was for dogs but I immediately took him into the kitchen to wash him off only to find that he had gotten into the pantry and ripped open a new bag of flour and spilled about 1/3 of the bag on the floor.
Two days ago I was on the phone with John and after finding a huge puddle of milk on the table and floor I commented that Desmond is the equivalent of 15 kids. And it's true. So as I was cleaning up the flour I said it again and my girls said "if Desmond is at someone elses house we need to keep him away from their pantry" and I said "and their milk, and their eggs, and their cereal, and peanut butter, and sugar, and soap, and faucet sprayers, and goldfish, and spaghetti, and cannery juice mix, and hot chocolate, and butter, and toothpaste, and desitin, and deoderant, and baking soda, and baking powder, and I'm sure I'm missing something. Seriously, these are all things that I have come into the kitchen or bathroom and found a gigantic mess.
So maybe you should watch your child Robin you're thinking, and although there is an element of truth to that there is also just an element of the kid is a magnet to messy stuff and making messes and getting in to everything when I turn my head for even a minute. Will he ever outgrow this? I think so because Collin was exactly the same way and he has toned it down a bit. But honestly, I don't know if I can survive much longer, I have had 3 mess makers right in a row, so much that sometimes I don't even blink an eye, I just pull out the broom and start sweeping. On the other hand sometimes I completely loose it like yesterday when he decided to wash off the peanut butter he had spread all over his body in the kitchen sink and then proceeded to take the sprayer and spray down, nay soak, my entire kitchen. Water was dripping from the ceiling. That was a proud moment in the Holman household.
If he wasn't so darn cute and didn't walk around singing Bob the builder and Super Why and saying "I miss you" everytime I come home from being gone I'm not sure what would happen. What do you do with that much cuteness and that much trouble?