We Sneak Because We Care

We got a package of lovely, apparently imported chocolates from our favorite Iowa cousins today. The girls (and the boy, I might add, who has learned to say chocolate) went wild. I got down our special crystal bowl to put them in because when else are we going to use a special crystal bowl? Which of course I knew was a bad idea from the get-go. I passed by the front room once and saw E with her hand in the bowl. She jumped and said, a trifle too quickly and too loudly, "I'm just looking at these!" Moments later I spied her sneaking down the hallway with a suspiciously full bag. Once again she saw me, quickly tossed the bag into her room, slammed the door, and leaned innocently against the hall wall. Mom: "what's in the bag?" E: "What bag?" Mom: "The bag in your room." E: "um . . ." Mom: "I'll just take a look." E: "No! Wait! I'm going into the front room for a minute! Don't come in! Don't look at me!" So she went sneaking back to the front room, bag in hand. After a few rustling noises she came out with an empty bag. "See Mommy? Nothing in the bag." Then a third time I caught her and M red-handed, or rather chocolate-mouthed, and then banned them both from said chocolates (convenient to my purposes--more for me).

Daddy cut Tooie's hair again today. Tooie now looks like the world's smallest escaped convict with almost bare patches here and there on his head. Marmot Dad claims you just can't tell when a baby is going to throw his head around when you have clippers in hand. A convenient excuse, I say.