Justin and Juma pulled out the little bottles of German window paints to paint a picture. One of the bottles was clogged so Justin squeezed and squeezed really hard to to get the paint out. But he squeezed so hard that the top popped off.
From the other room, I heard Juma start to bawl, so I ran in to see what was going on. He was splattered with generous amounts of paint all over his face, shirt, arms, and pants. It was also splattered on Justin, the floor, the chair, and the table.
Although Juma was crying, it was a funny site. I would have loved to take a picture, but I thought my duty as his mother would be to help clean him off, rather than embarrass him with the camera. So now we won't have the visual memorial of his little accident, but we also won't have him teasing-complaining to me for years to come, "Mom, you remember that time I was covered in paint, and all you did was take a picture? What kind of Mom are you anyway?"
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