Did you know children have a sixth sense that is activated when Mom is preoccupied? I was the victim of this phenomenon many times. My parents had a ball watching the resulting chaos. It's a comedic routine when it happens to another parent. I can't wait for grandchildren and my turn to watch the fun.
When our twins were two, I was on the phone counseling a friend. In those pre-cordless days, I was tethered to the kitchen wall. Jamie toddled by and asked for juice. I responded with his favorite cup. Amie asked for a pretend bottle for her dolly, and I produced that, too. They both meandered down the hall toward the bedroom while I continued my conversation.
I became aware of the lack of noise from the twins' room. Uh oh! Danger! I said goodbye as politely as possible and crept down the hall to investigate.
I slipped around the doorframe and peeked into the room. My scream was loud enough to wake the dead. I grabbed the doorway to steady myself from falling over. Four squinty eyes and two open mouths were motionless. Two miniature bodies were slathered head to toe in ooey-gooey Vaseline.
The twins suffered from chronic diaper rashes. As prevention, I purchased an economy-size jar of petroleum jelly. I'm talking about a real tub of it. This monster probably weighed 10 pounds.
While the twins held their breath and waited for orders, I surveyed the room, hoping to get a grasp of how this mess could have happened. The changing table had drawers. Cleverly, the drawers had been pulled out one by one. As they stacked atop each other, they formed a ladder. I assumed Jamie had climbed up to investigate this exciting mountain and spotted the compelling jar. He must have dropped it down to Amie, making her an accomplice.1