The Time: WAY past bedtime.
The Place: The hallway, because that's where I happened to corner Jack so I could brush his teeth.
The Situation: Toothpaste dripping down Jack's mouth, no washcloth in reach.
The Weapon of Choice: The dirty laundry hamper.
Jack: "But Mom, that's the
dirty laundry."
Me: "It's okay, I know where the poop on that outfit was and I used the clean part to wipe your mouth."
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