Blue milk for lunch? Check.
("It's from a blue cow," I say.
"EW!" says Lily . "You're giving us milk from a COW???")
Green food dye in the upstairs toilet tank; red dye downstairs? Check.
(Edee  is the first to use the potty. "It's green!!" she says. I didn't even know she knew any of her colors yet.)
Vanilla pudding mixed with cherry juice and pawned as "fingerpaint"? Check.
("Is this yogurt? This smells like yogurt.")
The berry "drink" (it's Jello):
The "cake" for dinner (shepherd's pie with ketchup and mustard "icing"):
"Taco salad" for dessert (taco shell: waffle cone bowl, ground beef: ice cream rolled in graham cracker crumbs, sour cream: whipped cream, lettuce and cheese: colored shredded coconut, olives: licorice, tomatoes: cherries):
But that stinkin' seven-year old, Mr. High-and-Mighty-You-Can't-Fool-Me. I couldn't. But his papa could, and this really irks me. After all the work I put into today (and do you know how hard it is to catch minutes ALONE in the kitchen to work your magic?), THIS is what fooled him:
Yes, icicles snapped from our roof and plopped onto our railing. He still thinks this is real and what nature provided. No, it's his father's doing, and it only took about three minutes.
So the game is on. Next year, my son, the pranks will be nowhere near as tasty. You'd better hide your underwear (my sewing needle is ready) and your toothbrush (where's the salt?).