What’s Furry And Smells Like Toothpaste?  Answer:  One
of our cats.

If you guessed correctly, then I know you are the
parent of at least one toddler and you have my
sympathy.

It seems that young Mr. Aiden (my two-year old)
discovered the toothpaste my oldest daughter, Rachel,
keeps in her backpack to clean her teeth at school.

Well, maybe he thought it was hair gel.  He and the
cat had spiky, blue, minty-fresh hair.

They just don't prepare you for these things when
you're about to become a mom.  They never tell you
that the VCR will hold exactly one toddler-sized
fistful of Cheerios or that a banana can be mashed
through a window screen.

Now don’t get me wrong.  I supervise my children, but
they’re good at sneaking under the radar.  How do they
do that?  By doing things I’d never dream of in a
million years.

Did you know dog food floats?  And did you know that
when an entire bag is poured into the dog’s water dish
that it swells up four times its size?

Did you know that peanut butter in a pillowcase looks
suspiciously like something else?  Have you ever seen
a white cat with Crayola Marker stripes?  And can you
guess how many marbles it takes to stop up a toilet?

If they can make diapers that dissolve, why can’t they
make crayons that dissolve – like in the washer BEFORE
they go into the dryer?

Why can’t they make perfume, baby powder, flour and
vegetable oil with child safety caps?  Why can’t they
make kitchen chairs with pressure sensors you can set
so that when you step into the other room to plunge
the marbles out of the toilet, you know when your
little one is attempting to build a sophisticated
ladder in the kitchen to get the cookies on top of the
refrigerator.

Why can’t my husband find the permanent black marker
in the top drawer, but my toddler can?   Can’t they
make postage stamps that don’t stick to anything but
envelopes?

I’m not complaining.  In saner moments I can reflect
on these incidents and see not just the humor, but the
intelligence my little ones possess.  And then I have
to ask, “Why can’t God create children with time delay
intelligence, so that they don’t amp up until they
enter kindergarten?”  I mean, that’s what the teacher
is trained for, isn’t it?

I’d love to spend my parenting energy guiding my
children and encouraging their latent talents, but I
don’t have time!  The Alphabet Song and counting have
been replaced by the need for me to sleuth and figure
out just why the cat has tartar control hair.

I went to college for this?