The Bathroom goes BOOM.

Inspired by the confetti flying on Mott Street, P requested a sparkly shooter. But once he had it in his hot little hands, he had no interest in exploding it in the street. He wanted to enjoy it at home.

This is sooo P. We haven't bothered to join parades for the last few years because the throngs overwhelm him and he doesn't enjoy himself. At All. But he's finally found a fab way to be peaceful in this mobbed metropolis: he ignores it ;) (We were serenaded on the sub the other day, the singer attempting to get a high five from the Little Man, who sat, tight lipped and unmoving. After the moment passed, I mentioned that it was ok for him to say hey, or even just smile, to strangers, if he wanted - wondering if it was his stranger danger issue at play. To this midwesterner, the thought of not responding to someone still seems so... un-doable! I've gotten better about ignoring total crazies, but it still isn't natural for me. While I'm thinking about this, a lady sitting to my left asked me if I was born in NYC. No... She smiled and said she was. And then warmly reminded me that P was a local kid - like she had been, and that this is how kids deal, surrounded by strangers (who often try to claim a kid's interaction.) It was an eye opening point. Other than possibly the checkout girl at the supermarket, there were hardly any unknown adults in my young life. My folk's friends, my preschool teacher, the neighbors. I knew them alll. And happily ensconced in the car, I interacted with strange adults next to never. Sure, there was an occasional trip to the zoo or the mall, but that was rare in comparison to P's daily foot-filled forays with uncountable unknowns. Of course it would make a difference! As I thanked the nice native, I wondered how I'll honor my little New Yorker's need to claim some semblance of privacy in this city while simultaneously appeasing my people pleasing personality...)

But where was I... Oh, yes, we headed home with the dragon decorated bomb. I assured E it would be easy-peasy. We'd cover the bathtub with sheets, and explode the thing while enclosed. Then the Little man could toss and tumble it till he was done. Slide out the bottom sheet and whalah. No muss, no fuss.

Ha. (hahahaha) E, being the good sport he is, climbed into the tub with the tube and the kid. E hates to get messy. Though he had just had hundreds of tubes rain down on him during the parade, he felt fresh picked, confetti free, and wasn't too excited to preen again. But I so wanted a picture of the boom :) And he kinda likes me ;)

Needless to say, the best laid plans and all that... I (seriously) underestimated the size of the boom. I clicked the camera as i automatically clamped my eyes shut to the enormous bam... only to feel the explosion. land. on. me.

Yup, it shot right out the top, dusting E and P with a few tiny shreds in the process. It blew open the sheet - and barfed onto me - and the rest of the bathroom. After a shocked second, we all died of laughter. Especially the karmically clean Ethan :) It only took a few shakes for him to brush clean. The bathroom is a while nuther story...

P, very excited:


The boom:


P and E, surprisingly clean after the explosion:


The bathroom, surprisingly not clean after the explosion (the pic does it No Justice. Trust me. :)