See the contents of that now empty bottle to the right of that arrow and the rest of the contents that are on the floor?
And now I would like to draw your attention to the final arrow that points to a set of foot prints.
The reason these arrows are significant is because they point to the point of this blog. Get the point?
When Audrey, 5, was at school and Nolan and I were home alone, I opened the door to the pantry, and this photo shows what I found. As I stood at the entry to the pantry, I asked Nolan, 3, "Who spilled the sand art in the pantry?"
His eyes widened, as he searched his repertoire of usable comments, and responded, "Not me."
His comment reminded me of a story my mom told me about the time I had just learned to write my name. My younger sisters, Cindy and Kathy, were still too young to attend school, and I was obviously too young to realize I could be caught in a lie.
I had written MY name on the wall, and when my mother asked me who wrote it, I blamed Cindy. (I chose Cindy, by the way, because she was usually the one who got in trouble, so I just chose the most believable person. See? I was smart, after all.)
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