The Great Powder Spill of '08

I woke up this morning around 7:00 to the sound of my three year old's voice calling for Daddy. Michael had left for work an hour earlier, so I headed to Jonah's room to see what he needed.

The smell of baby powder was strong in the hallway. It got stronger as I neared Jonah's room. When I opened his door, the smell slapped me across the face. I actually coughed. Apparently Jonah calls for Daddy instead of Mama when a mess has been made.

There was powder EVERY.WHERE. Starting here.

all over the floor (that's Llamas in Pajamas covered in powder, in case you were wondering),

across Jonah's pillows that were scattered on the floor,

all over his bed,

and then in a circle around the rest of his room, ending with his rocking chair and ALL is books. *Sigh*

We just spent an hour wiping, vacuuming, and dusting a room the size of a postage stamp. When finished, Jonah and I had a conversation that sounded something like this,

Mama: "You need to say, ' I'm sorry Mama for making this mess. I won't play with the powder anymore.' "

Jonah: "I sorry, Mama. I not play with power 'nymoh."

Mama: "That's right. No more powder."

At that point I lowered the window-blinds and powder exploded in my face. I had failed to see the layer of powder on almost every slat of the blinds! We will now refer to this incident as The Great Powder Spill of '08. At least it wasn't turkey giblets. (Blog about THAT Aunt Christel.)