Notes from a Baby Shower

The whole clan, Bob included, went to his little brother's girlfriend's baby shower this afternoon...

One of the games we played was the "identify the melted chocolate candy in the diaper" game.
First off, ew!
Melted Snickers totally looks like poo! I may never eat Snickers again!
Ok, I will. But not out of a diaper!

Secondly, diapers are SUPER chemically!! I'm really glad that we use cloth. It was really gross. I could barely tell if I was eating Milky Way or Three Muskateers because everything tasted like diaper chemicals. Yuck.

But here's the real story...

For most of the game Dylan was off running around and riding a scooter. He wasn't paying attention to us in the slightest nor did he realize that everyone was tasting candy from diapers.

When he finally came over to our table Bob showed him the Milky Way diaper and said, "Hey Dylan! Look at this!"

"(Insert sound of fake puking here)", Dylan said.
"Watch this Dylan!" Bob said, grabbing a spoon. "You want Daddy to eat the poo?"

"NO! NO NO NO!" Dylan screamed. He freaked out and started covering his face in horror.

Bob spooned up some "poo" and raised the spoon to his lips.
Dylan starting yelling, "No no no!" and had a mini-stroke.
Bob ate the "poo"!
Dylan trembled and his face screwed up in disgust and he ran away in such a horrible fright yelling...
"I can't like that! I can't like that!!"

It was so damn funny, we did it three more times.




PS: I totally tanked the chocolate poo game but won the "What flavor baby food is this?" game hands down. You can't whip a mother of three in that game. It wasn't even hard. I did half the list by sight alone. Cake-walk.

A heartwarming tale for the holidays

Last night I was relaxing after a long day of kid wrangling.
I was sitting in the family room while the kids were bopping around, working off even more energy.
Elizabeth was in the kitchen, Dylan unbeknownst to me, was also in the kitchen.
Suddenly I hear Elizabeth screaming:
"Dylan has a knife! Dylan has a knife!"

And I see him walking around in the living room with a giant chef's knife. How he got into the drawer to retrieve it, I have no idea. But no time for thinking right then.
I jumped up and raced across the house to get it away from him.
He saw me coming and walked quickly back into the kitchen, toward his sister, who then started screaming:

"Dylan's trying to stab me! Dylan's trying to stab me!!!"
As she ran through the kitchen, over a laundry basket and into my bathroom.

By the time I got there, mere seconds later, Dylan had put the knife back into the drawer and vanished. He must have ran away from that scene so fast!!
I shut and secured the drawer and then consoled my dear little near stabbing victim.
"Dylan was not trying to stab you."
"Yes he waaaaaaaaaaaaaas!!!" she sobbed.

Dylan then reappeared, and he got a scolding for touching sharp things while I recovered from my heart attack.

Happy Friday!