Everyone, within close vicinity to Conner the Conqueror's tirade of mass weapons of powdered sugar, was bound to come into contact with the powdery shrapnel.
Even my freckly, hairy, moley, arm (gotta love those genetics!) fell victim to his destruction.
Here he is pulling out the "big guns". A medicine syringe containing residue of Children's Tylenol.
Does he have no shame?!?!?!
"Oh the humanity!"
I can't help but wonder when the "bulk" of the battle will be over. Have I not suffered long enough?
Often, when I encounter these circumstances, I remember a talk that President Monson gave at a General Conference. He talked about how someday we (parents) will miss the dirty hand prints on the walls. Sometimes my response is, "Um, yeah...I don't think so," and at times my heart aches knowing that my babies are no longer babies. And before I know it, I will be spending my days alone with way too much free time on my hands.
Until then, I hope to remember to not fret over the battles too much. To lace up my boots, gird up my loins and to remember that days like today, is just another day, and another mess.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.