Friday, June 01, 2007

Topping the Cream Puff Fight

When older our son got home this afternoon for lunch, I greeted him with the news that he no longer held the record for most outrageous indoor activity--the great cream puff fight of 2003, in which he and his sleepover chums suddenly went ballistic with a bucket of cream puffs, and our son was scraping solidified cream from the ceiling for days, with a stern mother looking over his shoulder to make sure he didn't miss a spot.

That's old news now, his little brother holds the record now.

Sadly, I didn't have much sense of humor about the cream puff incident (partly because I love them; if they had to disappear I'd have liked to have consumed them, not see them obliterated on impact). Today though, when I heard my daughter crying out for me and raced upstairs, my first thought when I saw the mess wasn't, "You rotten little blighters" but "Stay still, I'm getting the camera."

When I returned with the camera, they were still there, our daughter holding still so she'd didn't land with a bang, but our four year-old is uncontainable, and he was making snow angels in the layer of shaving cream covering the entire floor and much of the rest of the room. It started innocently enough, sort of, when the aforementioned daughter needed to pee at the same moment that our youngest spied the can of shaving cream left foolishly on the bathroom counter. Before you could say "Holy goat nipples Bat Thumb" the floor was sprayed, and she figured what the heck? might as well join in.

Did I mention that the four year-old was naked? Actually, you couldn't see much through the layer of shaving cream (one can holds a remarkable amount), but he was overjoyed that his penis was snowy white and his whole body felt and smelled terrific. Needless to say, our daughter wasn't naked, though she was up to her armpits in shaving cream and a guilty grin, happy that I didn't blow my top and instead saw the humor in the situation.

The inevitable did happen, a crashing fall into the porcelein god, but the head bash was minor by our standards, and I managed to get the little guy into the shower and work on wiping up the mess. The bathroom will probably smell for a month. But at least it didn't involve scraping crusty cream off a ceiling, and shaving cream wipes up like magic.

And frankly, our four year-old has never been so clean.

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