A brush with toothpaste (and paint)

Case,

This afternoon, before I left for work and after I told you multiple times not to go into the bathroom, I found you in the bathroom painting. As I mentioned previously, I don't want to stunt your creative development, so I ignored the fact you didn't listen to me and let you do your thing. Plus, you were wearing pants, and that's a victory in itself. I didn't want to push it.

As you painted, I started to brush my teeth. You immediately noticed this and wanted in on the action. You love to brush your teeth. Absolutely love it. It's quite shocking how much you love to brush your teeth. You normally end up in front of the mirror in your room brushing your teeth because you get kicked out of the bathroom after 5 minutes or so. You love brushing your teeth. So it was no surprise that you would want to join me in a mutual brushing of teeth. It was however, a bit of a surprise when you looked down at the paint brush you held in your hand, smiled and shoved it into your mouth. Oddly, this didn't seem to bother you. It did bother me, so I quickly removed the paint brush from your mouth, took you out of the shower stall you had been decorating and placed you on the step stool in front of the sink. I then grabbed your toothbrush (By the way, stop using mine; not cool) and put the tiniest amount of regular toothpaste on it. You've expressed your displeasure with the hard stuff previously, but I figured it might be a welcome change since you just shoved a brush full of paint in your mouth.

I was wrong. You flipped out. You screamed, you cried, you flailed for your tongue as if you just ate a dozen habaneros and chased them with turpentine. I calmed you down, washed out your mouth (again), cleaned off your toothbrush and gave it back. You stepped down from the stool and ran right to the mirror in your bathroom to finish your business.

Maybe we'll try putting a little paint on the toothbrush tomorrow. But don't tell your mother.

Love,
Dad

P.S. I got a call from said mother on the way to work and she let me know that she came upon you in the living room, flat on your back, attempting to change your own diaper. She found the one you had been wearing in the garbage. Niiiiiiiice.