The Little Thief

My daughter is a thief. But not the normal kind that steals shiny things of great value. Oh no, my daughter steals bread products. Yes, I did say bread products. The other night Eric "took care of" the table from dinner-we have vastly different ideas of what "putting dinner away" means. So, while I was feeding the baby, and Eric took the boys to swim lessons, Eme went to work on the last 1/4 of the sourdough bread loaf left on the counter. Two days later I picked up some krispy kreme doughnuts for breakfast-one for each kid, and two for Eric and I. I ate one of mine, and pushed the box with my remaining one well onto the center of the counter, kissed Eric goodbye for work, and left the kids to enjoy their treats while I went into the other room to feed Maddie. When I came back out, perhaps 15 minutes later-tops, I found the box upsidedown, and empty on the floor. And my dear little thief, looking quite innocent except for the one bite of doughnut left in front of her, was watching Sesame Street, right where I left her.