After bath time, Holly and Ryan always look forward to Pow-Pow. Their term for some rose-scented (some might say perfumed) baby powder that comes complete with a little white poof for "poofing" on to little feet and butts.

Whenever we do pow-pow, we have the kids stand on a towel in an attempt to contain the great billow of powder that is nice and difficult to clean up, short of a wet sponge or mop.

The only reason I relate all of these stories, I got out of the shower today (yes, Kyle, another shower tale. Don't get too excited.) and grabbed the nearest hanging towel and buried my face into a nice pow-pow-filled experience. I must say it wasn't all that unpleasant, and I think I happen to smell pretty good today.