When M got up on Saturday morning C and I were in the kitchen entertaining ourselves with the Play-Doh Fun Factory kit she got for her birthday. Little L was in her highchair keeping herself busy with a cut up waffle.
For a moment he looked annoyed that we were making such a mess of his favored breakfast spot, then he shrugged and cleared a space at the end of the table, away from the Play-Doh madness. I had originally just sat down to help C open up all the little containers, but once the smell hit me waves of memories compelled me to sink my fingers into the soft dough and start kneading. By the time M joined us in the kitchen I was rolling, cutting, shaping, and smushing right along with C.
“Don’t knock it,” I told M. “The fun factor is very, very high.” He just laughed at me and focused on his bagel and newspaper. C and I started making a Play-Doh birthday cake.
“Mama! I need to go peepee on the potty!” C cried out.
“OK! OK! Let’s go!” I put down my purple lump of dough and jumped up. A long potty break later and we came back to the kitchen ready to resume our play only to find M sitting in my chair Play-Doh in hand.
“Aha! Couldn’t resist could you?” I teased.
“Well, you were right, the fun factor of the Fun Factory is very high.” He answered sheepishly.