Ben is working on getting a new tooth. I'm working on keeping my sanity.
I was in the kitchen when I noticed that things were quiet. For the first time today (with the exception of his two 30 minute naps) Ben wasn't clinging to my leg screaming.
Everyone knows a quiet child means trouble. I decided to investigate. I found him in the living room enjoying the remains of our last fire. What I really wanted to do was quietly leave the room and let him enjoy himself for at least a good 30 minutes.
Partly because I knew Jason would be home from work at any moment and partly because I'm not sure what eating ash does to a body, I took him kicking and screaming to the bathroom to clean him (after taking a picture of course).
A potential 30 minutes of peace, down the drain. Oh well.
Yep, it's official. Letting your child eat ashes qualifies you for mother of the year award! (Ella has a taste for plant dirt, so it can't be that bad!)
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