We served Babs spaghetti last night, and it was the most ridiculous moment of our lives.

Babs usually loves spaghetti, but last night, she REALLY loved spaghetti.

Simply, the recipe was thin noodles, and Ragu sauce, but our evening was about to become more complicated than we could possibly imagine.

Babs, sitting in her high chair looked at us, knowing what was about to happen.  She was ready.

As soon as the spaghetti hit her tray, it was on.  Her first bite was two handfuls of the pasta that she pushed into her mouth.  There was no looking back after that.

We tried to slow her down, but to no avail.  She was attempting to eat it all, but realistically, only 50% made it into her system.

The other 50% you ask?  About 30% of it started landing on her lap, which led to the unimaginable.

You see, Babs is not used to having slippery pasta on her legs and stomach, so she started to freak out about the odd consistency.

You’re probably wondering… where did the other 20% of the pasta go?  Well, while Babs was overly excited about eating spaghetti, she was also disturbed by the mess on her legs, leading to her arms flailing back and forth at a record breaking pace.

With her arms moving similar to a propeller in between bites, the remaining spaghetti starting flying around the room.  On the floor.  On the dining room table.  On the walls.  On my guitar.  Spaghetti was everywhere.

And the more Babs ate, the wilder the crime scene became.  With each handful she enjoyed, she began to cry at the mess all over her, which led to record breaking propeller speed.   This meant spaghetti landed in all directions within a 10-foot radius.

Afterward, the consequences were severe.

Babs was too dirty to put in our clean bathtub, so we had to bathe her in the sink.  That’s right, she was too dirty to take a bath.

Since Lucy had cooked, I was on cleanup duty, which took about a half hour, removing spaghetti from every part of the room.

I swore that my daughter was never going to have pasta again.  However, there are leftovers in the fridge, so I’m afraid of what lunch will bring today.

Spaghetti is scary.