the other morning when justice asked me if he could have some cookie dough i said no because i’m the meanest mommy in the world. he sat at the fridge, door open, wailing and hollering like i’d just cut his ear off.
a few moments later, he stopped screaming and ran off to his bedroom, leaving the fridge door open because he was concerned the house was too hot, i’m sure. he’s a compassionate thinker, that one.
i got up to shut the fridge & thought nothing more of it.
he came back out of his room and i gave him a kiss as i am wont to do. he’s utterly delectable. this fine morning was no exception, but i did notice a new deliciousness. the distinct taste of chocolate chips mixed with flour, butter, sugar, etc.
you see where this is going, don’t you?
i snapped my head back from his lips & he immediately knew the error of his ways & smacked his hands on his mouth.
the taste of cookie dough does not go away immediately, folks. he’s 3. he doesn’t know that yet.
i chased him back to his room to find him like this:
i looked around under his bed thinking the evidence was there, but he smiled his adorable smile &, eyes closed, pointed up.
that’s where i found this:
i opened the box to find this:
mind you, this bad boy was full of cookie dough not 10 minutes prior to the discovery of the box.
i tickled him.
poor dude ended up with a bellyache.