Oh, man. The rice.

Like any other parent, I’m always looking for activities to keep Evie entertained. Activities that don’t involve marathon Daniel Tiger viewings. Although that’s not to say that hasn’t happened. But, that’s neither here nor there.

Good old educational activities. That’s what I’m on the hunt for. I don’t mind a little mess, as long as Evie’s having fun. We’ve painted with pudding, gotten dirty in the garden, eaten popsicles in the bath. You get the idea.

That being, said I was not prepared for the rice sensory bin.

Now, I did think this over before we started. I put down an old blanket in the kitchen and the rice bin on top of that. I figured that it would provide enough of a buffer to keep the rice contained if Evie got a little silly.

It didn’t.

Seriously, not even close. Despite asking Evie to keep the rice in the bin, it was flung far and wide. Aaron came home during the heat of it. Before I even knew what was happening, Evie was running from the kitchen with two fist-fulls of of rice.

As Aaron reached the top of the stairs, Evie threw the rice. For a moment it was like a fun wedding celebration. But we weren’t at a wedding. We don’t event have any cake in our house. Instead, it was Aaron and I looking at our feral, rice-crazed daughter, yelling “Da Da Da Da” and trying not to slip in the rice she just threw.

That’s when the dog sauntered over. She decided to help by eating the rice. I imagined the story about how birds were exploding after weddings because they were eating uncooked rice. It swelled up inside of them after they ate it — and then, BOOM.

Oh, god. The dog’s going to explode.

With the dog put away and Aaron and Evie sent downstairs, I began the task of sweeping up the rice. I did my best — but it was everywhere. I’m still finding more. Mostly when it imbeds itself into my feet.

The rice sensory bin is tucked quietly in the closet. It will stay there until we gift it to some other unsuspecting fools.