I remember the first time we let Claire go wild with a pudding cup. It was so much more controlled. So much more…not wild. But. The second comes along and you’re just a cheerleader for mayhem and destruction.
I mean. You haven’t slept in a time scale better measured in years. You have no “nice” things anymore. Or, you do and there’s no functional attachment. The second time around, you give ’em a pudding cup and practically cheer as they splatter it about everything.
“Oh my god! She got some on the wall!”
“I know. That must be like, what, four feet!”
::high fives all around::