Our Powdered Donut

So, the other day when I was writing a post on this here blog, little H was having so much fun in her room. I checked on her thirty minutes prior & she said when I walked in her room, "I-I-I'm just playing with my dolls." My heart immediately swelled with warmth and pride as I witnessed my sweet little princess being such a good girl and playing so well in her room with her door shut. As I skipped out of the room (figuratively because my large belly wouldn't actually let me do that comfortably or without Depends), I closed the door and glided down the stairs to finish writing & uploading photos.

When I was done, thirty or forty minutes later, I gladly and proudly made my way back to my little girl's room to see what innocent, imaginary games she'd been up to. And then I opened the door. My mouth dropped. I began gagging and coughing. My eyes squinted through the white haze floating in the air. There, on top of the changing table, stood Hannah. "Oh, my, gosh! Hannah! What did you do?!" -"I, I, I was just spreading some powder." Yeah, ya think?

Oh, she was happy as a peach, all covered in baby powder, the ceiling fan conveniently blowing it ALL around the room. The floor and every shelf, toy, book, ledge and wall were all covered in a thick white dusting. So, I did the only thing I could in this type of situation. I grabbed the camera and she beamed, so pleased with her art project. It was definitely funny &, after I got over the initial shock, I tried not to let her see me laughing. Of course, I was the one who had to clean it up. What a mess. Oh well. At least her room and the vacuum are fresh-smelling and deodorized.