Cheeto Bandito

This afternoon I went upstairs and Ben stayed downstairs. He was very quiet, so I seized the chance to quickly check my email. The silence should have been my first clue. After ten minutes, Ben came upstairs to play and it was a few minutes before I noticed that his face was covered in orange Cheeto gunk. He'd asked for Cheetos when we were having lunch, but I didn't let him have any since they're reserved for picnics and other outings. Apparently, he found the Cheetos himself and ate the remaining fourth of the bag while I left him alone.

As soon as I saw his face I ran downstairs, hoping that he'd contained the mess to our wood floors. At first I didn't see anything and was relieved to think that a crisis had been averted. I even checked the garbage can to see if he'd been courteous enough to throw the empty bag away. When I couldn't find any telltale signs I asked Ben to show me where the Cheetos were. He led me to his hiding spot, behind one of the wingback chairs in our living room. It was covered with debris and the carpet streaked with orange grease. It wouldn't have been so bad except for the fact that I'd spent five hours last week shampooing our carpets while Ben was gone.

To let the punishment fit the crime, I had him vacuum up as much of the mess as he could and then I spent the next 15 minutes scrubbing the carpets. There's still a bit of a tint, but thankfully the chair will cover it. Hopefully when we eventually move, the prospective owners will not think to look behind the chair.

A close-up of the carnage.