In the Dead of Night

Do you remember me mentioning in passing (in This post) that Thomas will get out of bed repeatedly, for hours and hours? Charming as he is, I'm not so happy to see his sweet little face at 11ish. Tonight it is 11:14, and at this late hour my little man has taught me a very valuable lesson. Don't put ANYTHING in the bathroom trash that you don't want to see again at 11pm....like that unused bottle of baby powder. Because it will end up on a sleeping Emma, (bombs away)

And filling the music box like some kind of magical snow,And all over BOTH sides of the room,

Along with the banana he pirated... and the rest of the toilet paper from the roll,

And saturating his bare mattress, which is still sheetless from the potty accident of earlier today(...hmmm, maybe that's not such a bad thing)

And in a pitter patter little line through the bedroom and down the hall, presumably to pirate said banana,

And of course, all over the little perpetrator himself. Look at those guilty little hands and feet! And cheeks! And hair!

Yes. This little bottle of dollar store powder has left me with a mighty work to do. We'll save it for tomorrow when Thomas the Night Wanderer can help. For now we'll just savor that baby fresh scent, and try not to let him see us laughing.

And I know you're asking yourself, so I'll just tell you....where I was. I have had the flu for 5 days, so I was convalescing on the sofa watching a PBS documentary about life on air craft carriers. I now have a new found respect, fear even, for things that go bump in the night. I can foresee a very short future for night wandering among Spraguelings. Oh, yes. Tonight I learned volumes more about parenting than I did about air craft carriers. (enjoy your good laugh at my expense)