We have this rule:
NO FOOD IN OUR BEDROOM
I think it's pretty obvious why we would have a rule like this, but in case it's not, it's because (a) food does better at the food table with so many little kids, and, (b) we really don't want crumbs in our bed or on the bedroom floor.
Clearly when Ella is a cat, she doesn't understand rules.
Nor does she understand the other rule of:
DON'T POUR A BAG OF PRETZEL ON THE BEDROOM FLOOR...or anywhere else.
CRAWL IN IT:
THROW IT: (Followed by a quick, "Stop throwing it!" from me.)
REST NEAR IT:
REST NEAR IT LIKE A WEIRDO:
(no photo since I was making her help me clean it up.)
In case you're wondering how this could happen, I'll tell you. Though, clearly you must not have children if I have to explain this part to you. Or you've had them so long ago that you've reached the selective memory stage...you know, the my-children-never-did-any-of-those-things-that-all-those-other-kids-do-because-I-was-such-a-great-parent stage. (While the children, now grown, remember doing those things that their parents don't remember.) Or, perhaps, your child, for real, never did stuff like this. (I don't think my first one ever did, unless I've reached the selective memory stage with her!)
So, it all began when I had this foolish idea that I would work on budgeting our money (with the most awesome financial program known to mankind, called YNAB).
I sat down, in this very room as seen above (with the embarrassingly made bed, now that I look at it more closely).
I turned my back.
Clearly this was my first mistake. (Well, second, if you include the way I made the bed.) (Though, if you consider what happened when I turned my back to work on our budget, think what might have happened when I turned my back to make the bed.)
In my delighted, blissful excitement of entering bills and balancing the register (yes, I am being serious. You need to try YNAB if that's not how you feel), I soon heard the sound of lots of small things falling on top of each other.
What could it be?
I turned to look, and I saw this little girl - I mean, kitten - pouring pretzels out and playing with them like the world couldn't be a happier place than it was. For her. Right then.
The deed was done. The pretzels were out.
So, I had the choice of what to do. I could:
(a) Freak out
(b) Sit back down and ignore it.
(c) Take some photos
Clearly I took some photos.
I didn't freak out, but we did have a serious talk about not doing that again if she didn't want me to duct tape her to the wall. (I've never gotten to do that before. Though, I think she'd probably find it more like a reward than a punishment, and then they'd ALL want me to duct tape them to the wall, and it's be more effort than it's worth...)
So, moral of the story is:
I should make the bed better next time in case something else happens, and I end up taking some photos with the bed in the background.