{utterly amazing}

while making dinner the other night,

and feeling the pressures of having a messy kitchen
spelling words to practice
homework to complete
wii games to play and kick butt 
and a very demanding 5 year old little boy

i happened to pass the bathroom.

and there i found my doh doh.  hands on the toilet.

i have 2 little fellas.  who rarely flush.  {partly b/c i've told them not to constantly flush when it's just pee...water conservation, baby}

you can imagine what was flashing thru my mind.  i snatched her up, noticing wet hands, and took her straight to the sink.

(not that sink...that's the laundry room)

we scrubbed.
we scrubbed some more.
and when i was thoroughly convinced we'd taken off a good layer or two of skin, i put her little bootie down...still lecturing her on germs, proper hygiene, and the importance of momma's sanity.

enter drama, stage left.  cue the tears.  lots of wailing.  you know the drill.

i went back to setting the table.  and putting on those last minute touches before i greeted my man at the door in pearls and high heels and ushered dinner to the table.

and then i began to look around.
and i couldn't find the butter.

butter i had left on the counter, waiting to take to our dinner table.

i looked at doh doh.  b/c....well, i just know my girl.

she was nowhere around.  that coward had tucked tail and ran run.  i found the butter, full of fresh finger prints, on the floor of the family room.

next to her bean bag.

that was not toilet water on her hands.  it was butter.  and in my lecturing state of mind i had not noticed the greasiness.  she had simply been climbing on the toilet to get to the sink.  and in her guilt, had taken the lecture on toilet washing....knowing that was probably the lesser of the 2 evils.

{sigh} man alive, i love that girl.

by the way, while typing this, all 3 kids have surrounded me in the play room.  two stinky boys were attached to my sides, bumping me as i typed.  both wanting help making books.  one desperate (guess who) for heavy cardstock paper.  the other just simply couldn't do it himself.  (again, guess who)

i may or may not have had to end all poop conversations.
i may or may not have had to threaten them in their inappropriate talk, especially around their sister.
i may or may not have had to stifle a giggle as bruiser let out a belly laugh at bubba's loud burp.
i may or may not have sent both fellas to the bathroom to do some business after the smells filled the room.

i reiterate:  isoloveboys.