"But we're sorry!"

Knock, knock, knock...on the bathroom door as I was trying to hide and talk to my dad for a moment about the inspection report on the house we were buying the very next day.

"Mom?"

"I'm on the phone with Grandpa and the door is locked, what Cambelle?" ...now I knew I shouldn't have added that last part.

"Emmett and me threw our dinner aww over da kitchen, it's a real mess, but we're sorry!"

"What?!?!"

"I said, But we're sorry"

Now when she says it's a real mess, let me lay it out straight just what she means by it's a real mess. We had been eating in the dining room when the phone rang and I went into the only room with a working lock, oh the joys of living in a home built in 1937, anyway, we had been eating ravioli, with marinara sauce and green beans. There was ravioli's stuck to the walls, windows, curtains, radiator, dining room chairs and all over the floor. The room was a mine field of green beans squishing under my croc flip flops as I looked over the damage.

When I told her that she alone would be cleaning her mess, her only reply was..."that will take forever!"

"Yes, yes it will." Curtains came down and went through the wash that very moment while she "cleaned" her mess.

But hey, at least she was sorry right?

Kids....it's like I always say, the Lord was smart to make them cute, saves her life some days!