powdered sugar

In a rampage of eating everything sugary in the house earlier this week, I made a batch of puppy chow. Maybe after eating 3 brownies. Get over it. I clearly have. It was marvelous and I regret not a single second of it.

Anyways, so after eating dinner tonight, I wanted some of said puppy chow. Ryan did too. (Another little kid trait of Ryan's...he sees me eat a sweet and he haaaaaas to have one too. And then he blames me for gaining weight after getting married. Sheesh.)

We were sitting on the couch, and because Ryan is known for spilling everything he eats on his shirt (I swear I'm married to a 24-year-old. He's not actually 6), I say to him, "DO NOT spill any. Don't make a powdered sugary mess on the couch!" He took one piece and it was just too much stress on me, so I suggested he eats his off his plate.

I start pouring it out of the bag onto his plate, being careful to not drop a single piece on our couch."That's enough," he says, so I stop pouring. I flip the bag back on my lap, and in the process dump powdered sugar all. over. me.

My camera needs to be charged, so I couldn't snap a picture, but basically I looked like this little girl.

Awesome.
I busted out laughing.
And I clearly owe Rye an apology :)