I walk the three steps from the microwave oven to the kitchen island to get a bowl for Owen's chicken noodle soup. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a blue and maize streak duck in and out of the tall cabinet that houses the mixer, baking supplies and microwave. In an instant, I heard a thud followed by "yeaha". As I turn my head to look, I hear the pop, I blink and open my eyes to find this:
He was "very sorry" and, I must admit, it was hard not to laugh while asking him just exactly what he was thinking when he jumped on the brand new 5lb bag of powdered sugar - he wasn't sure and neither was I.