Hey Sis, I did your taxes. Now you owe me a new rug.

Well, there may be a few more steps in the middle of that.

It's like this.

I hate Play-Doh with a passion that may border on the unnatural.

It smells weird.

It feels weird.

I'm pretty sure it's made out of ground up demon parts.

I absolutely cannot stand it when the colors get mixed together, because I am an OCD, crazy as a loon control freak because it seems very important to keep them in their separate containers.

Oh, and most importantly, it gets in the carpet and won't come out.  EVER.

But, in order to do something that might require some concentration and maybe some math, I needed to keep the kids busy for a block of time.

Cj is easy.   He's not entirely mobile yet, so it is pretty easy to trap him in some sort or contraption that bounces or swings.

Zj, not so much.

So, I bit the bullet and let him play with some Play-Doh for an hour or so.

This turned out to be not so great of a call.