Becca came downstairs as I was doing the laundry and asked if she could help. I am well aware that it is faster to do it myself than to include my little helpers, but in an effort to develop her autonomy, I gave in and let her help me sort the laundry. I thought I was watching closely, but somewhere along the line she threw a pair of pull-ups into the washing machine unobserved. When I opened the lid to move the clean laundry to the dryer, my eyes were met by a veritable winter wonderland. The pull-up, which I have learned from one of our trips to the beach, is much messier when wet than a diaper--it expands to about 5 times its regular size then explodes. There were probably two quarts of a crystallized substance that looked like a smashed snowball and felt like wet, gooey jell-o transforming my laundry into a flocked Christmas decoration. By the time I shook out all of the clothes my entire laundry room floor looked like a snow storm had come through, and was slippery as an ice skating rink. This image is just a very small sampling of what was all over my laundry room, and judging by how much work it was to get it cleaned up I think I have decided to waive Becca's privilege to help with laundry until after all the girls are potty trained.