In praise of the clean bowl

Today the boys and I were upstairs, cleaning their rooms. In so doing, I wasn't necessarily giving a lot of individual attention to each boy. Henry was out of my sight for a few minutes. What can happen in a few minutes? Well, Paul Harvey, here's the rest of the story.

Henry came running up to me and said something like, "Puninair?" He had such a sweet, proud-of-himself smile on his face. I was totally perplexed, and thought briefly that I would just ignore him (you know, because I was busy! With the cleaning!) but thought better of it. I asked him again what he said, and again he repeated, "Puninair?" "Show me," I said. So he did his little happy dance, the one where he kind of prances, kind of runs, and tips his head from side to side, all the way to my bathroom. Then he points at the toilet and says, "Puninair?" Ah. Put in there. I lift up the lid, and sure enough, Aidan's Bionicle is floating. Thank goodness it was a clean bowl.