…does this end? I turned my back for one second. It was first aid cream so it wouldn’t rub in. Posted by a blogmate (with picture goodness).
And my reply for her?
"Idunno. My son was just over 2 when he sprinkled a whole bottle of baby cornstarch all over his uncle's bedroom. Which included his computer.
At 5*, I found a pile of wet books on his bedroom floor. Get this — he was putting out the pretend campfire he'd made with the books! He knew not to play with fire, but he didn't think to put out the pretend fire with pretend water.
And then I, at 23, who had always wanted to squeeze out a whole tube of anything? One of the things the hospital sent me home with (after giving birth) was a tube of nipple cream (I breastfed) that I wasn't going to use because it had alcohol as an ingredient (nobody wants dried out nipples) — yup! I squeezed it all over the bathtub. Spelling out my name, his name, etc.
And I still want to pour a cup of coffee into my Brita pitcher to see if it comes out clear water!
But maybe I'm just special that way…"
I should have added how, at age 3, I came into his room to find his electric alarm clock at the bottom of the goldfish tank. And the miracle?
The fish were still alive and he hadn't even shorted out his room or the house.
I unplugged the clock before I pulled it out and stuck it in the garage to dry out. I was thinking another miracle would occur and the clock would still work, but no. I guess I just wasn't as blessed with the good luck that had been placed upon my son.
Me? Not so special after all…
* I stand corrected — he was 3 years old when the laws of electricity and water were defied.