I had five spastic children (not counting Miss Thing here) in my house making ice cream sundaes while their parents attended a meeting about the school and how to spend all my tax money. The Goozie was feeling left out, so like a Good-Sister-to-Aunt-Choc, I just took that big ol' can of frozen non-dairy whipped topping and made a six-inch pile o' fluff in the middle of Goozie's tray. She had a damn fine time. This also gave me a chance to cope with the chaos by sneaking behind the shed and doing some jell-o shots.
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