The Little Gentleman

Somewhere in internetland, there's an Ecard floating featuring a one-liner about moms never trusting a silent house because it ultimately means their children are doing something they're not supposed to be doing.

With this being said, I'll let you in on Miles's new favorite spot in the house: the bathroom.

If the house is too quiet, the odds are pretty good that he's in the bathroom and he's destroying something:

• Squirting toothpaste all over the lid of the toilet seat, I can deal with that because it cleans easily.
• Using the bathroom scale as a springboard, I can deal with that because it cost $5.00.
• Unrolling an entire roll of toilet paper, I can deal with that because we can roll it back up.
• Coloring on the mirror with chapstick, I can deal with that because the room then smells like cherries.
• Filling the sink with water and all of the handsoap, I can deal with that because at least his hands are clean.

You know what I have a really hard time dealing with though? The kid drinking out of the toilet!

I don't care that he used one of his sisters' porcelain teacups. I don't care that he had his tiny little pinky out. I don't care that he had the sweetest little satisfied smile on his face when I shrieked "Miles Christopher! That! Is! Disgusting!"

And once again, and Ecard slaps me in the face with the cold hard evidence that children are adorable little demons...