Shredded paper heaven

Our lone trip to Busch Gardens without daddy must have sent my brain into convulsions because I had a terrible lapse of judgment the day after.  Either that, or I was really starting to feel the pinch of school starting and wanted to give our kids another I-can't-believe-we-got-to-do-that event.

I thought it would be a good idea to have Nathan help put the shredder paper in the recycle bin outside.  You know, chores type stuff.

I thought it would be a good idea.

Nathan didn't make it much further than about 6 inches with the can before little pieces started littering the office floor.  With many warnings from me, some pretty effective pleading from him, more you-betters and pleading that he understand me and a stellar set of puppy dog eyes, I conceded.

 

Nathan was requesting to play with the shredded paper.  I felt the intense internal battle between letting him be crazy and spontaneous and a beautiful, messy child fighting with my need for control through orderliness.

Good heavens, why can't stuff like this be easier for me?

Oh whatever!  It can always be cleaned up, right?  I'll be sure to help him and not do it for him.  It'll be a lesson in "minutes of pleasure" can sometime lead to hours of "cleaning it up."

So I ended up letting ALL of them play with the shredder paper.  They were fully aware, in their 4 and 7 year old brains, that cleaning up had to happen (with my help) after all the festivities and before they did anything else.  Like go visit their friends for supper.

I got to safely sit behind the door and take pictures.

Behold, the shredded mess my children so magically and beautifully created.

In the hair.

 

In the air.

 

Everywhere.

 

Watching them throw it at me, safely sitting behind the glass.

 

Even little guy got in on it.  His favorite nickname for me is Boppy, so here, he's slapping shredded paper on the glass saying, "Boppy!"

 

There was a good 30 minutes of pure, unadulterated, wild and crazy mess-making.  Then it was time for the real world.

It wasn't as fun getting your picture taken while cleaning up, though.

 

And some people take a little longer convincing themselves of their self-induced reality.

 

But they eventually come around.

 

They did great cleaning up.  So good they overheated the vacuum cleaner and were left to sweeping it with a broom that repulsed the little pieces scattered everywhere.  The vacuum had to sit for half an hour to cool off then they were back at it again.  Overall, the cleaning process took almost an hour, for the 30 minutes of fun.

I think they learned a lesson.

I know I did.  I'll stick with enjoying it in the dry bathtub for easier clean up next time.