He walked past me with green sprinkles mashed to the sides of his mouth.
Ethan: Hi, Mom.
K: What's going on?
Ethan: Well, I was playing my game a few minutes ago.
K: Uh, huh. I have a question for you.
Ethan: Okay, Mom. What's your question?
K: Did you get into your brother's birthday cake?
K: Did you eat the cake? I told you we are going to eat it in an hour.
Ethan: Nate got into it.
I walked over to find no less than 4 finger holes in my buttercream frosting. The boys had decorated Mason's birthday cake with blueberries (Mason's favorite) and green sparkles. I decided to save the big fish for later and to start with the fish in the barrel. I yelled to Nate.
K: Did you get into this CAKE, NATE?!?!?!
Nate: Mom, you said 'no cake."
K: I KNOW. That's why I asked if you got into it. It has these holes in the frosting.
Nate: I don't know.
K: What do you mean, "I don't know?"
K: Let me smell your breath.
Nathan opened his mouth and sucked in in a manner that would have made every underage drinker proud who has ever gotten caught by a parent. And like I imagine every parent checking their errant child's breath for proof, intake of air makes no difference. I could smell the organic evaporated cane sugar on his breath.
Nathan: (laughing) I'm sorry, MOM.
I turned back to Ethan.
K: Did you get in the cake?
K: Eat. Let's just cut to the chase. You have green sprinkles on your face. I know you got in the cake.
Ethan: Mom. Nathan MADE me do it.
Ethan: HE made me.
K: Eat, how did he manage to make you get into the cake that is sitting over there in the middle of the table, away from everything.
Ethan: I was over there and I had my finger just like this (pointing) and then he pushed my finger in the cake. So then I had to eat it because I had frosting on my finger.
K: Normally I would be asking WHY you were up on the table, pointing at the cake so close that your brother was able to shove your finger in but I'm not going to do it.
Ethan: Really, Mom. It was like this (making pointing and poking motions in the air animatedly).
I sent them both to timeout and then made them hide their wicked ways with strategically placed blueberries.
After dinner when Derek was in the kitchen doing dishes, I found Nate perched on a chair with his head completely in the mixing bowl, licking buttercream off the side of the bowl. Derek and Nathan were standing so close together, they could have touched. I looked in complete disbelief.
D: I told him to ask your permission. He didn't?
K: He needed to ask my permission to stick his head in a bowl to eat a cup of sugar, a pound of butter and egg whites? Seriously?
D: So he didn't ask...
K: No. No, he didn't ask.
D: So I should stop him?
K: I don't think we could.
Nate's head popped out of the bowl and he grinned at me.
Happy Birthday, Mason. I'm so glad we have nearly 11 more months before we are making a cake with frosting again for any birthdays.