After a long bad bad bad week with teething and no sleeping, Courtney's first tooth broke through on Saturday and she has been sleeping a lot to make up for all she lost. I finally got more sleep and have been digging out from under a weeks worth of bad housekeeping, which creates a lot more mess than you would think...

Last night I actually made dinner, with three parts and everything, your meat, your starch, your vegetable. Just like mom taught me. While I was cooking, Luke was upstairs in his room playing quietly.

Or not.

After I got everything set up to cook or simmer or boil, I went upstairs to check on the boy. I found him with a cut on his eye and soaked from head to toe.

"Luke, what did you do!"
"I take a shower!"
"Did you fall? How did you hurt yourself?"
(blank stare)
"Did you take a shower in mommy and daddy's room?"
"uhhuh"
(drag him down there to see if something is broken, but all is well)
"Luke, what happened to your eye?"
"The cat scratched me. He does have claws."
(The cat is the most docile creature EVER, so I start looking for reasons...)
"Where were you when the cat scratched you, Luke?"
"In mommy daddy's room"
"Was the cat in the shower when you turned it on?"
"Uh-huh"

Natural consequences learning for the day: Cats don't like showers.