A couple days ago, I turned on a Bella Dancerella DVD for S. A while later, I walked into the room, and she wasn't there. I heard some thumping upstairs, so I thought I'd go see what she was up to. I met her on the stairs. I asked, "What were you doing?" (I was not being accusatory; I was just curious what she'd been doing.)

"I was hiding under the blanket." (Now that raised an eyebrow.)

"Why?"

"Because you were going to be angry with me." (Now THIS is interesting.)

We went through a couple rounds of "Why would I be angry with you/what happened/what did you do?" followed by "Nothing," until she slipped and said the word "cake."

Hmmmmmm.

So I asked what she had done to the cake. Did she swipe some frosting? No. Did she break off a piece? No. Did she lick it? No.

By this time I was giggling pretty hard, so I just scooped her up and carried her with me to the kitchen, where I had been working on J's birthday cake (which ended up being a dismal failure for a myriad of freak reasons...I'll spare you the details). This is what I found:

The sides of the cake HAD been completely covered in white frosting.

Now what I want to know is, why couldn't ALL of my children ended up with consciences like that?