mmm, paint.

So, Edgar was sitting angelically at the table eating a warm cookie.  I decided to take the opportunity and snag some baby-free facebook time.  After about one minute Edgar started making some smacking noises.  Eating type noises.  That's what he was supposed to be doing so it didn't even register in my mind to look over.  Robert looked though. "Oh! Kim, he's eating paint!"  I jumped up and saw two little sausage fingers dipped in bright blue paint.  He had somehow opened a tiny pot of those lame paints that come with kid's clay. Edgar looked at me with wide eyes, licking his lips as if to say "this stuff tastes horrible!"  I wanted a picture so bad, but about the time I thought of it Edgar started crying to get his tongue washed off.  I couldn't really blame him, so I started washing.  He was starting to calm down so I figured we just about had the paint out of his mouth.  I held him up to the mirror so I could see if I had missed anything.  Bad idea.  Edgar saw himself and screamed bloody murder.  Watering down the paint in his mouth had just spread it around  his  mouth and chin even more.  It was the most frightening thing he had seen since Grandpa Green popped out his dentures at thanksgiving.  He cried and cried and cried, then cried some blue paint on Papi's shirt, then cried some more when he saw THAT blue paint.  What a poor little lamb.  I wish I had a picture.