Sometimes pictures can tell a whole story. This morning, I took a picture of what I saw just as I was walking out the door.
In case you can't tell, the story is something like:
Somehow, probably through Dad's negligence, little Miriam got a hold of a Hot Tamale. From the evidence here, I'm guessing she didn't like it. This also explains why she came running into the den this morning with the box of Hot Tamales, insisting I take them.
In similar incidents, I have recently found 1)a partially eaten banana in the car, 2)yucky spat-out string cheese remnants, also in the car, and 3)lots of little milk drips around the house where she turned her sippy cup upside down.
If only we could all act this way when we didn't like our food...