Mimicry

This evening after dinner, I bathed the burritos and put their pajamas on.  Then I sent Asher to get a comb for their hair.  I was busy doing something else and didn't notice that he was taking an inordinate amount of time retrieving one.  When he did come back, he was still comb-less and, despite the copious amounts of lavender scented baby lotion I had slathered on him, he brought with him the unmistakable aroma of Old Spice.

"Asher, did you put Daddy's deodorant on?"
"Yeah!"
"Where did you put it?"
"back in the drawer, with the lid on"
"I mean where did you put it on you?"
Asher lifted up his pajama top and pointed to his armpits.  "I put it in the right spot!"

Since he did, in fact, put it in the right spot, and since he put it away so responsibly when he was done, I decided that there was no reason to give him any lectures about it.  But then I realized that Simon had also been absent for some time, so Asher and I went up to investigate.  It turned out that he, too, had delved into Mommy and Daddy's bathroom drawers.  He was holding an open tube of mascara and he looked like this:

Not quite in the right spot, Simon, but close.