My "spilt milk" story: Christopher and the paint

My son was 2 years old and quite the rascal. I walked into the family room just in time to see him balancing on top of the two cans of white paint he'd stacked up. I didn't make it across the room before the top can slipped sideways and burst open, spewing white paint all over the carpet. It was an insane mess. I ran over and scooped up handfuls of paint and dumped it back into the paint can, trying to salvage the paint (luckily I'd just vacuumed the carpet). We were very poor, and really didn't have the money to buy more paint.

I was white up to my elbows before it occurred to me to wonder if it was latex or oil-based paint! Luckily, it was the water-based paint and by the time I'd scooped up what I could, scrubbed myself and my child, I just had to shake my head and laugh. Figures. Who would have thought a 2-year-old could *lift* a gallon of paint and balance it on top of the other can? Little did I know that was just a prelude to what it would be like living with my very own Evel Knievel.