At least it kept her busy for a little while
"You don't need to open every can," I told her helpfully.
"But I made you a birthday cake. You have to blow out the candle." It's not my birthday, in case you wondered.
(Speaking of cakes, have you seen the Cake Wrecks blog? It's hilarious! My favorite was the Grand Theft Auto Cake . . . for a four-year-old!)
But back to the topic of Play-Doh . . . my younger sisters never had the opportunity to play with Play-Doh, because our mother banned it before they were even born. I got to play with it for a brief and shining moment when I was very young. Apparently, I promptly ground it into the carpet, where no amount of scrubbing/cleansers/elbow grease could remove it. It's probably still there . . . in a little apartment in Maryland somewhere. Little hard blobs adhered tightly to the carpet fibers. But anyway, thanks to my failure to play with the colorful dough responsibly, my sisters never even got their hands on a can. So sorry, sisters o' mine.