Toothpaste as art

This morning before school I left Rose in the bathroom to brush her teeth and get a bath while I went to do piano practice with Sam. After a few minutes of quiet from the bathroom, I yelled to Rose , “Are you brushing your teeth?” and she answered, very clearly and with the kind of proper enunciation one cannot achieve with a toothbrush in one’s mouth, “YES!” and then I immediately heard her electric toothbrush turn on.

Later, I came in to find her lying in a bathtub with the water running and filled up to about twice the normal height. I turned off the tub, finished her up, and got her out to dry off, but she said she had to pee. So she sat on the toilet, dripping onto the floor, while I turned to get the Aveeno lotion from the counter.

That’s when I saw a gel-like substance smeared all over the outside of the plastic drinking cup.

“Rose , what is this?” I asked. She stared at me with a scared, busted look on her face.

Repeat those last two sentences five times, because that’s what happened. Finally, she bowed her head, hid behind her hair, and said in a meek voice “toothpaste.”

Not even HER toothpaste. MY toothpaste! She had been painting with MY toothpaste all over the cup, the soap, and the sink, leaving a token deposit in the tube.

I did not find it particularly funny (as no doubt you do), but neither did I lose my temper. I told her to clean it up, which she did promptly and without complaint, and I let the matter drop. Revenge is a dish best served cold.