All Too Quiet

To some silence means commitment. To others it's golden. But in my house it means trouble. If I can't hear giggling, screaming, talking, or the pitter patter of little feet (it's actually more of a stomp stomp stomping, to be honest), something is wrong. The Mommy Senses pick up on something. Somewhere, somehow, someone is making a mess.

I spent a little too much time hanging out with big brother on Friday morning. I was checking the web for news on the earthquake and tsunami in Japan...to the accompaniment of Iron Maiden, naturally. I think little sister may have been a tad jealous of all the lap time that Duncan was getting. All of a sudden I noticed the silence. I went to check on Miranda, you know, just to make sure she's ok.



I followed the footprint to the scene of the crime.



Flour, flour everywhere.





And the little culprit. Those little pants are brown in real life.




She lashes out like a celebrity, "No picture!"

She got in trouble, and I got to work cleaning up the mess. Flour is like sand. It gets everywhere! (haha Amy, I used this quote again!) After my shower, I found Miranda in the kitchen, olive oil in hand. She had mixed it with the whole container of baking soda, and a few tablespoons of salt. She got in trouble. Again. I can't help thinking that she may have been trying to make pretzels or something. Or just making trouble to get a little bit more of Mommy's attention. Thankfully, she was a sweetheart for the rest of the afternoon.