Sticky

Yesterday I laughed out loud. On our way home from McD's Cal was holding his happy meal box, where I had put his toy figure, part of which was still wrapped in plastic. Halfway home, he asked, "Mommy what is this?" and held up what I thought was the plastic wrapped piece. "Part of the toy, bud," I said. "I'll help you open it when we get home." A short time later, Cal said, "Oh, it's sticky." I thought he was referring to the plastic, so I paid no attention. He repeated, "It's just sticky" several more times. It wasn't until I heard an odd sucking sound that I looked more closely in my rear-view mirror to see that Cal had opened and was sucking on a small carmel apple sauce container. His nose was buried in the thing. Now, I normally throw these out and don't let Cal dip his apples. I must have accidently left it in the box. When I gasped, he repeated, "It's sticky!" making me laugh so hard. Cal was covered, up to his eyes, in carmel sauce.