Sweet Boy#3 walked up to me this week and very sweetly handed me a fingernail polish brush. The problem…it was just the brush, no bottle. And where there is a lone fingernail polish brush, there must be a lone bottle of fingernail polish, open and leaking. That is what I presume, but we don’t know that for a certainty as I was never able to find that alleged bottle.
Sweet Boy#1 and Sweet Boy#2 made a lifelike reconstruction of Mt. St. Helen’s out of a large pile of dirt. It had the crater with one open side and the mudslide damage and everything. And of course it erupted silt all over their heads. Filthy and scientific.
Some Elmer’s glue was spread upon Sweet Boy#2’s legs as though it were lotion.
The Hunky Hubby was seen running through a thunderstorm carrying Sweet Boy#3 home from camp. Except instead of hiding his youngest in his coat he held his small son up over his head as though Sweet Boy#3 were a very large and squiggly hat. Which of course Sweet Boy#3 loved.
And the winner this week…Sweet Boy#1, when he should have been in bed sleeping, was instead found to be spraying Sweet Boy#3, his little brother’s toddler bed, and our CD player liberally with SPF 50 water resistant sunscreen. Which does not come off of electronics with baby wipes, nor washrags. The thing just might be sticky forever unless some industrious cleaning fairy comes to my aid and gives me a viable alternative to baby wipes and damp washrags.