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If you are about to sit down for a meal, continue. You can come back to this post later.

Ella was a little more messy than usual after tonight's dinner. I breaded chicken and pan fried it, and little bits of pepper, paprika and flour were all over Ella's hands. Rather than attempt to wipe all that up, I simply brought her to the sink and washed her hands.

Then I did the dishes.

As I was finishing up, Ella came up holding out her hand. "Messy daddy. Wash my hands." Sure enough, it looked like I had missed one hand. I washed it (again, as it turns out), then asked her how it got dirty.

"Over there" she pointed.

"Show me"

"Ok"

She ran off around the corner, I followed. As I rounded the corner I noticed two moderate sized piles of cat food that had seen two trips through the cat's gullet, once each way.

"It's yucky daddy!"

"You touched it?"

"It tastes yucky daddy!"

Silence

"You...ate...you ate it?"

"Yes. It's yucky" she said with a look on her face that said so much more.

Fatherly advice about not eating things you find on the floor was dispensed. I think Ella might actually heed the lesson this time. I'll take her word for it that regurgitated cat food is not a pleasant taste.

Melanie was a lovely blend of horrifed and lauhging.