Why do kids love love love the bathroom so much? I hate hate hate it so much.
Whenever I report to Simon that the kids have gotten into yet another bottle of HUGE MESS in the bathroom he unsympathetically replies, "you just need to keep the door closed."
I know. I know. I know.
But doesn't he understand that my life is too busy and stressful and important to be remembering to close the stupid door every single dingle time I go reapply my mascara on my bottom lashes or wink at myself in the mirror or put that one silly hair back into its picture perfect place or clip that pesky cuticle or spritz my favorite fragrance to give my already contended mood a little lift?
I guess not.
So let me complain to you about yesterday's casualties. Thanks. All I did was innocently tie my walking shoes over my perfectly mismatched socks (one knee high that had to be scrunched and one that just might be Julia's -- from her infancy -- because it covered my big toe) and ready Julia's blankie, two dolls, teddy bear, empty bottle, sippy of ice water, and book for our seven minute walk (Sebastian gets nothing and is content and then he stupidly wonders why he is my favorite needling) but that was plenty of time for the kids to help themselves to the entire vat of Vaseline. They only got as far as oiling their chubby faces and giving the toilet a pretty sheen but have you ever tried to clean Vaseline off of anything? It's like taking candy from a toddler - just as awful as it is impossible.
My tried and true baby wipe route proved to be a 6 on the effective scale and I'll just apologize in advance to any visitors that pop in to use the toilet for the next three years. It will probably be forever just a little bit slick - F to the Y to the I.
Sebastian then heaved his way into the downstairs shower a little later and despite Julia's obnoxious reports that he was in the "show!! show!! show!! show!!" by the time I had recovered enough from crazy Michaels' shred of death to check on Mr. Clean I discovered him very contentedly eating a bar of soap (for any worrywarts out there: he only ingested 1/2 of the bar and seemed to be energized by his potent Shower Fresh breath) I just hope he never has any cursing issues like Julia did because I am fearfully positive he would be tickled pink at the prospect of any mouth-washing-with-soap! threats.
We closed the day with Julia (yet again) painting her nails with some lip gloss. Just annoying enough to get annoyed with myself for even being annoyed and spiraling into an even further state of annoyance just as Simon waltzed in the door from work dangerously close to spotting this little scene ...