When things get quiet

So, the other night I left Sam downstairs playing with his blocks while I went to fetch jammies and a clean diaper to begin our bedtime routine. While upstairs, I got distracted checking something online. It occurred to me a few minutes later that it was oddly quiet down below, but I didn't leave the computer immediately to check it out.

Perhaps I should have. When I finally went downstairs, this is what I found.

And this.

As an avid baker, Sam was, of course, quite proud of his work. But even after all the effort he'd gone to to evenly distribute the "dirt" (as he calls it) on the dining room carpet, he was more than happy to help clean up. He held the dustpan while I used the broom, and once we got the vacuum out, he pointed out all the spots I'd missed.

Malcom, on the other hand, was disappointed that the mess didn't involve more bacon grease.

So instead of helping, he just sat there while we worked.

When I go shopping tomorrow, I may have to buy more flour and sugar. And corn starch and brown sugar. And powdered sugar. But dog treats are not on my list.