Daddy Daughter Dance

Our church Stake (multiple congregations)

hosted a Daddy-Daughter Dance last Saturday.

It was for girls 3-11 & their Daddy's.

Tomato was excited that she was able to go.

There was a milk & cookie bar, with many different types of cookies

& chocolate, strawberry, or green (?!) milk.

They rocked out to hits like the Limbo,

the Hokey Pokey, the Chicken Dance.

Tomato & Daddy both had a lot of fun.  And we were 

pleasantly surprised when they showed up just after 8pm, since

the dance lasted until 830.  But Tomato

was just worn out and asked Kidney Bean to come home.

There was even a photo booth with a bunch of different props available.

Surprisingly, Tomato looked at the camera!

She Thought it was Lotion

Poor little Olive.

I'm sure she had fun in the beginning, but

later realized it was not a good thing.

This is how Kidney Bean found her after naptime the other day:

And while she thought it was lotion, it was actually

more than half a tube of Desitin.

She apparently emptied one drawer of her dresser, turned

it upside-down, used it as a stool, and grabbed the tube from

the window.  She put the box back eventually, as you can see.

It ended up up and down her arms, on her clothes, on the wall,

the bed, the carpet....oh man, what a mess.

It also happened during the week that Kidney Bean was working

nights.  He was about to leave, but was hoping that I

needed help getting things back in order, so he could call in and be a bit late.

But I didn't think it would be too bad, so we sent him

on his way.  And Olive went straight to

the tub.

 

I should've been a little more diligent in making sure the Desitin

stayed out of her hair when we took off her dress.

It took a few phone conversations with my mom, who had the internet

handy, 3 washes with kids' shampoo, and one with adult shampoo.

By the end of the tub, she was cold, and her hair was not longer streaked with white.

But it was greasy for a few more days until we were really able

to wash it all out.

Little rascal.

False Alarm

So far, so good.

We are a binky free household.

And it's awesome.

It was just one night that poor little Olive cried for a binky.

Since she woke up the next morning, she hasn't even asked

for it.  At least that I've heard.

And since Sour Cream has never used a binky,

except as a distraction once or twice...he just laughed at it...

we have no binkies to worry about losing or forgetting.

I love it.