We are a family that likes cookies. Chocolate chip cookies are a favorite. Which led to us purchasing a rather large container of them right before Mother's Day in 2003. Little Bear was only 13 months old. It was pretty much my first mothers day that did not involve praying for sleep and trying to get a newborn to stop crying and or latch on. I woke up that morning to find that Little Bear had crawled out of bed already all sneaky like, and was giggling happily in the living room. Bleary eyed I got up and walked into the living room and found this:
He had pulled the container off the table and had upended it, opening it in the process, getting at the precious precious chocolatey cookie goodness that was trapped inside. He was covered in chocolate. My couch was smeared in chocolate. My rug had chocolate and crumbs ground into it. There was chocolate on the walls, on the table... everywhere. My initial reaction was to want to cry at the mess, and the cleaning it would entail for me on what should have been my "day off". Instead I made one of those decisions - what kind of memory did I want this to be? I decided to laugh, and grab the camera.
Eventually, I grabbed him, and sat him in his highchair to finish the mess off while I started cleaning, laughing all the while. He was my kid all right. A cookie monster!