Just a story on why coffee, siblings, and baby dolls don't mix.
Mom picked me up and then we stopped at the grocery store—where my kiosk happens to be. So I figured, why not get my little siblings a treat? After all, I've been gone a lot the past month. So, away we went, and I got them each a hot cocoa and a cake pop, and myself a pumpkin spice latte (don't judge!).
All was well until we got home (unless you count the littlest one putting the cake pop stick in her mouth like fangs and saying she was a vampire spider.).
So, I sat down at home, scrolling happily through Facebook, while two of my sisters played with dolls nearby.
I guess they must've gotten particularly wild, because one of them knocked my latte onto the floor. No bid deal, except now there was a mess of milk and sugar syrup everywhere. So I started cleaning up (having to move a chair in the process) while they happily continued their game—which suddenly took a turn to involve one of the dolls "popping their pants."
When I looked up to see what they were talking about, I saw that one of the dolls had apparently been in the path of the spill, and now had a large orange spot on the back of its crocheted, white diaper. (My mom was making the dolls clothes.)
So I tried to wash it out for them (while they Continued on as though it were the funniest thing in the world.),and most of it came out. So. I gave it back slightly stained, and my little sister did this with it:
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