The great Chocolate Cake Fiasco

Stay tuned. I'm putting the kids to bed - will blog about this tonight!

OK, here we go.
Imagine a pristine homemade chocolate cake. In fact, this is the same cake that the angel boys of yesterday helped me to make.
It was for daddy's birthday.
I even made it with milk instead of water so it would be extra rich.
Lovingly slathered in chocolate icing, with a generous dash of multicoloured sprinkles.
Oh it was beautiful. And it was even warm when I cut the first slice.
Double layer chocolatey goodness. After the boys were in bed, Chris and I helped ourselves to a generous portion each.
**foreshadowing alert** It would be the last piece we had.

Today was a schoolday. The boys came trouncing downstairs, eyeing the chocolate cake with anticipation, and ate their cheerios with a few grumbles that it wasn't the Bill Cosby Breakfast they were hoping for....
Still we managed to get out the door, and get the boys to school, while I came home and let the baby putter around, playing hide and seek and feeling somewhat smug that I'd managed to keep the house clean the day before, and with the two chief messy makers out of the house, I planned for it to stay this clean for yet another day - giving me a reprieve from the constant picking up, wiping down, and actually getting a chance to chat on the phone with friends without interuption.

Pick Matthew up from nursery at 11:15, come home and make lunch - so far so good. Put the baby down for a nap - Now it's just Mummy vs "the 3 yr old".
He climbed up to the counter several times, but mummy kept one step ahead. Cake remained safe in it's heavy glass cocoon of a covered cake plate. I imagined how good it would be after the boys went to bed tonight.

3pm rolls around far too quickly, and I'm off to pick up my big boy from school. He had picture day today and told me very proudly that he said "cheese" for the camera and definitely NOT "Penis" so "mommy won't get into trouble". I'm more than proud of course, and a little bit relieved as we had practiced for a few days, and every time he said "penis" with mummy sternly warning him that it isn't a word we yell out at school, and I would have to go to the principals office if he said that.

In any case, we got home and the boys were 'so so hungry' so I made them a Kraft Dinner which the 3 of them gobbled up faster than I could even grab a mouthful for myself.
They settled down to watch Dora's Dance to The Rescue, and I secretly hoped they would fall asleep. I figured they were more or less occupied for the next hour, so I puttered around on the computer, and talked to Chris for a few minutes, as he was on his way home.
It was while on this phonecall that I heard the sound, but didn't immediately register what exactly it was. A vague non-descript clanging sound of metal on something that could basically be almost any toy these days.
Getting off the phone, I noticed a chair missing from the dining room table.
I knew.
I knew before I saw it.

I knew Matthew had stolen the chair.

I knew he had pushed it up to the counter.

I didn't know he had also taken every fork out of the drawer, but that explains the clanging noises I heard earlier.

I caught him in the final moments of chocolate cake distruction. Up on a chair. 8 forks in his hands, repeatedly stabbing my beautiful chocolate cake, which at this moment lay in ruins all over the cake plate.............and the counter...............and the floor................and matthew's hands and face......
Icing and sprinkles smeared across the counter and all over the walls.
It was a chocolate Massacre in the kitchen I had kept immaculate for 2 days......

What possesses a child to do such a thing anyway???

I'm proud that I remained calm for the most part - even though I was seething inside. I sent Matthew to his room - mostly for his own protection. Not good to be around mummy when I'm this angry.
When I calmed down, I asked him what the heck he was thinking, and if he knew it was naughty to do that . Well he told me that he only meant to stab it "just a little bit".
I told him that stabbing it even just a little bit was naughty, and now nobody could have cake because he wrecked it.
He said "Are you mad?"
Oh sweetie - if you cannot tell by the smoke coming out of my ears and the throbbing vein about to explode in my temple, you really need some practice reading facial expressions. Problem is, Matthew can't. He truly doesn't know when I'm mad. He has figured out that when I punish him though, I'm usually mad, but he looked up at me in mid - stab and seriously did not see that I was ready to pitch him out in the trash along with the cake all over the kitchen!!

Honestly, I love that boy - but he is going to drive me round the bend. If not now at 3, then 10 years from now as he enters adolescence. Although I hope by then I am getting mad at him for eating the whole cake rather than destroying it.....

And no people, I did not get pictures. you'll just have to trust me that the extent of the mess was impressive given the short amount of time I was on the phone, and the fact that he only had 2 small hands wielding 8 forks.