The Fingerpaint Debacle

I should have know better, right from the start. Baby L had been grumpy all morning long. She protested getting her diaper changed, she refused her pieces of french toast, even when I dipped them in yogurt, and she arched her back and tried to escape when I bundled her into the baby carrier for a walk with her doggy, Indigo.

But then, while she took her nap, I discovered a grocery bag full of baby-friendly non-toxic finger paints hanging on our coat rack. This is the answer to Baby L's cranky mood I thought.

When L woke up, I plopped her in the high chair. "Guess what I have for you!" I announced gleefully. She didn't look very interested.

I squeezed a small dab of blue onto her highchair tray. She looked at it, stuck her finger in it and pushed it around a little, and then looked at me as if to say, "Yeah, so...?"

So I added some yellow. Still no big reaction.

So I added some more... and some more...

I don't know what I was thinking, really. She's only eleven months old, after all. I should have seen trouble coming... but I added one more squirt. And Baby L, with the swish of her tiny little fingers had a mouth full of fingerpaint.

Needless to say, I freaked. I immediately stuck my fingers in her mouth and scooped out as much paint as I could. I grabbed a nearby wash cloth and cleaned out her mouth, with L screaming at the top of her lungs, of course.

Moral of the story: Paint looks just like food to babies. Next time, I'll just use food.