This is why we have parents, the sequel.

I am writing an unauthorized sequel to Betsy's post about Samuel and Cheerios, and I am even blatantly copying her title. I just couldn't help but think of it when this incident happened. Today in preschool, Elisa had them make their own snack, which was granola. Ewan had tons of fun with it, mixing together oatmeal, sunflower seeds, dried fruit, honey & marshmallows. We didn't eat it there, but headed home with it in a ziploc baggy. I let him have it when he finished lunch, but he wasn't that wild about the actual taste, so the bowl was left on the table. Now, this is totally my fault. I was folding some laundry, and Fynn was just crawling around. I heard something small fall, but wasn't too worried. My house is so small that even though we're in different rooms, we really are all still up in each other's face. I could tell it was something small, he wasn't crying, so I finished up the laundry. When I came into the kitchen, this is what I found:
I didn't even realize he could reach up on the table, yet. He was enjoying his self-acquired snack so much, moaning in delight, and I had cleaned the floor earlier in the day, so I picked up the big chunks that could choke him and just let him go to town. Hey, he was getting all sorts of, like, whole grains and stuff. When he was finished, he crawled away from me, leaving a trail of the tiniest bits of nuts and oatmeal in his wake. But he sure was satisfied and happy. And since it swept up in a jiffy, I was rather pleased myself.