We've all come down with some variation of a nasty head cold here, and I was up half the night either blowing my nose, or rocking an infant. Timothy, thankfully, slept sound and hard. He was still sleeping when John left for work this morning, so I stayed in bed and waited for him to wake me up asking for breakfast.

When he did, he was covered in some kind of sticky yellow substance. Now he's taken to sleeping under his bed, and the substance wasn't that different from the color of the carpet, so I was freaking out, thinking our carpet might be poisoning our child. Then I went downstairs, and found this:



Apparently, he decided to fix his own breakfast, and all he could reach was Daddy's powdered Gatorade on the counter...

*Sigh*... At least he did it on the day I was planning to mop the floors anyway...