Hooper, 2009. I’m working in the family room on a mountain of papers that I received in connection with my church calling. Rusty is napping in his bed, Ricky is at preschool, and Billy is playing peacefully around me. He then heads upstairs. I assume he’s getting some missing train part that he can’t live without. Then I hear him coming down the stairs and I turn to see him lugging a nearly full gallon of chocolate milk that he’s twisting the top off and is getting ready to pour. Then picture me lunging and catching the milk carton just before a humungous chocolate milk stain places itself on my carpet. Yeah, that happened this morning.
Here Billy’s swiped goldfish crackers instead of milk, but he has the same look.
“What? You don’t want me helping myself to these crackers?”