A Story in Which The Boys Clean Up

Right around naptime, I went in search of my little boys, who I could hear playing happily on the porch.  I found them.  They were making a mess. (Or so it appeared to me, but I'm just the Mom, so what do I know?)

There was dirt, yes, but also some mysterious white substance which Evan was rubbing all over his Tonka dump truck as well as his little brother's hair and face.  Evan couldn't seem to articulate to me just what he was doing, but from the smell of things, I realized that it was the bar of bathroom soap that was now mashed all over the truck, porch, and toddler.

I took a picture, scolded mildly (hey, at least the mess was outside) and proceeded to be distracted by a sweet little girl with a polka-dotted, be-strawberried butt.

I was soon undistracted when Andrew showed up crying and rubbing soap in his eyes.  Poor guy... I got him  cleaned up and shipped off to bed for a nap, then sat down to nurse the polka-dotted pink one.

As I sat there on the couch, I noticed Evan making many trips back and forth between the bathroom and the porch with a washcloth.  I interrupted his diligence to ask what he was doing.  "I gittin' a soap off."  Hmmm...

After a while, I went into the kitchen in time to see him bring the dump truck through the door.  "No, Evan, I told you that's an outside truck.  It's too dirty to bring in."

And I bet you can guess what comes next.

Right?

Yes, silly Mommy.

"It's clean!" he crowed.

Am I really that slow?  It really took me that long to figure out what he was doing?  I was mystified as to why he would think to grind the bathroom soap into every nook and cranny of his dump truck, until I remembered telling him the same thing about the dirty truck belonging outside earlier this morning.




(And this one sure is sweet, but I realize that it's really only a brief matter of time until this one is joining in the messy fun.)