After cooking and cleaning up after our grand Thanksgiving feast (turkey plus FIVE kinds of starch), I took a nap.
When I woke up, my husband was calling poison control.
I guess the twins hadn’t had enough to eat and decided to drink their older sisters’ perfume.
I wouldn’t have been too worried (After all, how much could they have drunk? Wouldn’t it taste terrible?) except it worried me to see my husband worried.
If he thought it was bad enough to freak out and call poison control, then maybe it really was bad.
And the perfume bottles in question were empty…
I couldn’t believe they could have actually drunk perfume! Even the lady at poison control said, “Usually five-year-olds know better.”
They, of course, simply blamed each other. “She made me do it!” “He made me do it!”
Fortunately it turned out they were fine; they’d only had a tiny sip each.
And when I went into their room, my nose found out where the rest of the perfume had gone.
That carpet still reeks…