James is obsessed with bubble gum, even though he’s not allowed to have it. If I leave my purse or the diaper bag on the floor he makes a beeline for it, as soon as I’m not looking. He dumps everything out in search for his treasure. He’s fast at unwrapping. And then he sits there and chews, this look of utter contentment on his face—until I discover him and pry the gum out of his mouth.
What follows is a pictorial essay of the lengths he went to get some of Andy’s Double Bubble (yes, I realize it’s ridiculous we have a tub of Double Bubble in our pantry—it involves Andy shopping alone and Sam’s club), which he calls “Daddy’s gum.”
First, he moved both training potties to the other side of the half bath, and scooted the rug over as well. This gave him bare hardwood floor to push the stool across.
Next, he took all our paper towels, reusable grocery bags and plastic garbage bags (which we have because we never seem to remember our reusable grocery bags) out of the pantry.
He must have carried the (heavy) wooden stool over the above items because there was no clear path. But there the stool was, perfectly positioned.
Double Bubble sighted.
Success. He managed to open several pieces before I caught him. I only found one piece in his mouth (I don’t think he swallows them, but who knows).
“Once in a young lifetime one should be allowed to have as much sweetness as one can possibly want and hold.” —Judith Olney
admire those who do not give their children sweets or whose organic, all-natural Trader Joe’s lollipops are the only candy allowed in the pantry, I do. But if I’m really honest, I also love that, after a trip to the library (in which Sophie picked out five princess books, the boys squealed much too loudly at the gerbil running in its wheel and all three kids tried on different hats for 10 minutes) we went to our local candy store,