This is Lake Poodah. Located just 10 feet outside of our carport, and at a depth of the height of a pair of Stride-Rite sneakers, Lake Poodah is more exciting to the boys than any toy in their playroom. Lake Poodah appeared about a month ago, and, like that funky smell in my van, it will not go away. Sure, it might look pretty (who doesn't like a big fat mudhole) but it's really NOT when your children are wearing it, and you're supposed to be somewhere in 10 minutes. (See below.)

As you've probably guessed, our lake was named for Cooper, who can't keep himself out the mudhole. Nor can he keep himself out of trouble lately. Zach has been to time out only once or twice ever. Charlie, a few times more than that. Cooper is in time out at least two or three times a day.

Here's the problem. Cooper freaking LOVES timeout. I don't know where I went wrong. He does things like running out of the bathroom at full speed with a fist full of toilet paper (one end of which is still attached to the roll of course), stops and looks me straight in the eye and says "Bimeout! Bimeout!" Then we put him in his timeout chair (in an empty bedroom downstairs). He sits there and sings and talks to himself (apparently telling himself hilarious jokes). Happy as a clam.

Which brings me to Cooper's behavior this weekend.

It occurred to me yesterday that I hadn't seen Cooper in a little while. Neither had Brian. He wasn't upstairs, and he wasn't downstairs playing with Zach and Charlie. Where was he? Then we noticed the door to the timeout room was closed. We opened the door and out ran Cooper, looking like a little chipmunk. Literally. His cheeks were full of -- no surely it's not--- CAT FOOD. So much dang cat food that when he smiled at us, little triangular morsels would fall out. So proud of himself.

Bimeout! Bimeout!!