Tonight, our angelic daughter, went to bed fairly easily, with minimal coaxing required. That was around 9:00pm. I'm not sure what time she had need of her bedroom lamp, but it must have been around 9:30, because I remember hearing a faint whine coming from her baby brother. However, neither of us got up from our finally peaceful living room chairs, so we didn't see the light.
Fast forward about an hour... 10:15pm. Jace and I are ready for bed. He begins his journey to the bathroom for the normal night-time rituals, but stops, grunts, raises his eyebrow, and points to the floor... "Her light is on." We can see through the not-so-small gap below the door that her room is fully lit.
Then, the question of, "Do we go in?" It was quiet, or was it? I confidently informed him that she had done this before, and we only needed to creep in to unplug the lamp, so as not to wake her with the loud clicking sound of her light's pull chord. So, sneaky me, creeps up to the door to listen. I can hear a faint 'flap, flap, flap' sound.... strange, but maybe it's the clock ticking funny? So I bravely, but stealthily open the door. Jason sees her first.
Standing tall, in front of the rocker, with an unfolded cloth diaper in her hand, and an elastic headband quite perfectly positioned to keep hair out of her big brown eyes, is our daughter who whispers, "Hi." On the floor is a single cloth diaper. We were lucky. She must have JUST woken up because generally she unpacks the entire contents of ALL 6 baskets below the changing table. She hasn't done much damage.
We smile at each other and decide who's going to tackle the bear, because we knew she'd throw a fit if we tried to make her go down again. It was me; I was closest. I go in. The goal now is to not wake her brother, and keep her from making a sound. I unplug the light, pick up the rags off the floor, and put the basket away. Phew, no problem. I pick her up... no problem. "I wanna rock," okay, again no problem. We sit together in the rocker. I think to myself, "This won't take any time at all..." Then I smell something... something familiar... I feel her legs... lotion? My mind races to recall what dangerous chemicals I had left out for her to play with... I feel her arms... then her shirt and pants... her hair!... sticky, thick, and much more familiar than any lotion... it hit me.
Boudreaux’s Butt Paste. I had just covered Joel's rear in it, and left it out on top of the changing table....
"Butt Paste? Alayna, did you put on butt paste?" I whisper, still trying to avoid a conflict.... but now I'm really just trying not to burst out laughing as I carry her out to the bathroom.
Walking into the bathroom Daddy asks, "Alayna? What'd you do?" No response... just a HUGE smile from ear to ear. Well, she looked pretty good! Her hair was held back quite nicely with a stretchy headband. It even looked like it had been moused and styled. She was very proud of herself. As I warmed up a rag to wipe it from her hands, Jace wiped some off her cheeks and upper lip... After a few minutes of wiping, I was certain she covered almost every inch of skin and hair she could find.
Everywhere but her butt... Wish I had a picture.
The rest of the story is beautiful and not funny in the least. I carried her back into her room, we leaned back in the rocker, covered up, and snuggled until I could feel those little arms and legs twitching as she dreamed of how much fun she had today. Wish I had a picture of this too. Stuff like this makes all the other, less enjoyable blessings, so much sweeter. God is good.
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