The Messiest Man in America.

My husband ate one of these cookies last night.  

I didn’t make them. My mother-in-law did, with the help of ONE. I like the fact that they have handles.

So he ate a handled cookie, and somehow managed to drop icing on the kitchen rug, grind it in so deep with his feet that I had to wash said rug in the washing machine to get it out, and then he tracked the aforementioned icing all over the first floor of our house. 

I think the tracking actually took place this morning, after he was ready for work. In fact, Husband, if you are reading this, why don’t you take a look at the bottom of your shoes?

I’m not mad at him. But only because it’s white icing. This same exact thing happened once before, but it involved red sprinkles that were all over the carpet around the couch. Now THAT was a bitch to clean up.  

I may have had to stop one of my children from eating the icing out of the carpet. Both times.

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