Never Trust a Quiet Toddler

In the interest of accuracy/full disclosure I have to admit that this story is technically about a month old, BUT, I have been meaning to share it on here cause it's definitely one of those that I'm going to want to remember.

Evie and I (this was about two weeks pre-Cohen) were hanging out in my room.  I meandered into my bathroom to start doing my hair and Evie headed to her room where she began reading books.

Or so I thought.

After about ten fifteen minutes I realized I hadn't heard her in a while.  I started to head towards her room to make sure she and her books were doing ok, when I was greeted by this sight.

Yes.  That is homemade cinnamon syrup.  All.  Over.

I stopped short when I saw her.  Evie looked at me and said, "Spilled."  Umm.  Yeah.

My favorite girl had spilled an entire gravy boat's worth of syrup, and was proceeding to eat/smear it with her hands.  At that moment I realized I had two choices.  I could either laugh or cry well, really three choices because clearly I opted to run and get the camera, so I chose to laugh.  And laugh and laugh.  If nothing else, than from her simple explanation of what happened.  "Spilled."  Classic.  A month later and it still makes me laugh.


When it came time to clean up Miss Evie, the table, the chairs, and the carpet below her I wasn't laughing quite as hard.