Don't Ask

We have a walk-in pantry that houses just about everything under the sun from our thrice-used China dishes to a well-used child's magic set. This "pantry" is the place I toss things when I don't have a place, and a few food items here and there. The shelves are already full, so every new addition goes on the floor. You can imagine how well-organized it is. I usually have to step over a stack of paper plates, TV trays, and a breadmaker to access the playdough. After our Family Easter Gathering the room held the empty plastic Easter eggs that all the kids had hunted for (each egg at one time held two whole M&Ms). I think those eggs found their way up to the attic where they belong sometime late in June.

The impetus for cleaning out the floor of the pantry is usually one of two things:

1. I can't actually reach any of the shelves anymore, or
2. embarassment.

It is a good thing I have long arms and that I am not easily embarrassed because I don't re-organize this pantry often. But the good thing about this pantry (besides storing homeless items) is that it affords us some good photo opportunities for Weston.

I call this shot:

I Fwine-num! Em-em-ems!

If you look closely, you can see that every single egg has been pulled from its basket and opened. You see he has four eggs left in front of him to open and move to the "opened eggs" location. He is methodical, is he not? Perhaps he will enjoy organizing my pantry someday. He eventually found One Single M&M. He was ecstatic, yelling, "I fwine-em! I fwine-num em-em-em!"

And this one I call

Don't Ask

Yes. I know he is n*ked. No, I did not remember that I had not finished dressing him that morning. Oh well. Welcome to "four kids and a part-time job."