I just walked into the other room and found The Baby swinging around an empty beer bottle. Funny thing is, he was IN HIS HIGH CHAIR. One would have to ask one’s self. How did The Baby get the beer bottle? He had tilted it over and gotten some drops on his high chair tray. He was running his arms covered in clothing over the entire tray.
Slop, slop. slop.
K: WHO GAVE YOU THAT BOTTLE?
Even as I said it, I knew I was an idiot. I want you to know that. I KNEW I was an idiot.
I ripped the bottle out of his hand and started to clean his tray. Except there was an overwhelming smell of Windex on his tray. Where his food was. I just assumed that the foam on the tray was beer. Wrong. So now the baby is swimming through Windex and Sierra Nevada while eating his chicken noodle soup.
D: (turning to The Boy and noticing, for the first time, that he has a Windex bottle in his hand). Ethan?
E: I didn’t do it, Dad.
If I had to guess how many times I’m gonna hear that one in the next 20 years.
D: Ethan, were you cleaning the tray?
E: I was cleaning it, Dad.
K: No, he was trying to poison him.
D: Babe, he was trying TO CLEAN.
K: Clearly he didn’t learn that from me. He was trying to poison him. I just know it.
D: (now laughing) Ethan, you can’t clean your brother’s tray while his food is on it.
E: Okay, Dad. I clean it later.
If only he was a fastidious with his ass after he goes to the bathroom.