Driving Fussypants to school one morning this week, he squealed that there was sand in his shoe. Not really believing him, but recalling the time he told me he was going to throw-up and I scoffed only to be greeted with large volumes of baby barf, I reached behind me and took off his shoe. Trying to steer and tap the shoe in my palm at the same time took some effort, but I’m a good multi-tasker, and lo and behold, sand. Redeemed, Fussypants smugly spent the remainder of the drive very animatedly tapping his shoe in his palm and then throwing the sand out the window, which I had the foresight to open.
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Thank goodness the show didn't go out the window too.