Toddler + sticky = ?

The toddler saga continues at my house. Popcorn has had a nasty habit of getting up in the middle of the night and waking us--usually just to ask us to put him back to bed. He also is an extremely able and willful child. For him, to think is to do. Mix all that together and you get . . .

The other night, at 3:30am, Popcorn came into our room and woke us: "Sticky, Mom. I can't get off." I thought he'd picked a booger, so I handed him a tissue and told him to get in bed. He came back in about 30 seconds and said, "Sticky, Mom. Sticky." I got up and felt his hands--very sticky plus layer of tissue. I smelled his hands--not medicine (that has happened before). Hummm. I rinsed his hands in the sink and took him back to bed. On the way I noticed a glow from the stairwell. We must have left a light on. I went downstairs to investigate and everything came into focus.

The little stinker had gone downstairs, turned on the light, pulled the kitchen chair up to the counter next to the refrigerator, climbed onto the counter, reached on top of the refrigerator for his Halloween candy pumpkin, taken it back to bed with him and devoured three suckers and a pixi stick before having sticky hands and coming to our room.

Thank God that he can't stand to be messy. If it had been Shakespeare he would have been content to continue eating--sticky hands, face, sheets, pillows, jammies and all.

Moral of this story: when you have children, include a fireproof safe on the gift registry.