White Rain

Olivia is prone to moments of destructive curiosity. This is no exaggeration. Once she got hold of the Colgate, painted all the bathroom walls, the sides of the tub and finished off by layering a 1″ thick coat of it on her round little toddlers belly.

That was the image playing in my mind as I vaulted the 10 quick steps down our hall to investigate the latest suspicious noise.

Rounding the bathroom doorway nothing seemed out of place.  Then I spied her. Crouched inside the tub.

The bottle of White Rain clutched in her fingers gasped as she pumped out the last sad drops. Little violet pools collected around her chubby feet and her hands made a curious slurping sound as she happily clapped them in the viscous liquid. Her four teeth shining brightly she looked up as if to say “It begged me to get out of the bottle”.

This is why I buy .99 cent shampoo.

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