Today seemed to be one big mess to clean up after another. This was today's final mess (knock on wood). I ran upstairs to brush my teeth after dinner and came back to find this:
Chloe had decided to "cook" with this bag of cornmeal she managed to weasel out of the pantry. Nice. Not pictured is the pile of crackers on the dining room floor. Apparently she thought they were animal crackers (she says them "amiels. cackers.") and when she realized she grabbed the wrong box it was a much better solution to dump the whole box on the floor than to simply put them back in the pantry or on the counter.
Is it rude to say I was a happy mother when bedtime rolled around tonight?