Nope. Not yoghurt, not ice cream, not soap, not moss, not dog shampoo, not a medical cure, not mousse, not slime, not an, er, bicycle. And definitely NOT mascarpone. OR ricotta. None of those guesses from the Betcha Couldn’t Guess! competition were correct guesses.
Try belly buttons.
I imagine you’ve all just paid a spontaneous visit to Wrong Town.
My heartiest of hearty apologies, (I did try to warn you).
If you have never cast a mould of your belly button, it’s all extremely easy, except for the bit where you have to keep still. This is because you are GUARANTEED to dissolve into a fit of giggles. Well, the kids and I did – the Mr is only ever efficient at this sort of thing. Each of the ‘artworks’ is as individual and identifiable as the person it belongs to. Not only can you tell how cold our house is, (goosebumps!), you can even (sadly) see the difference in skin texture associated with a belly that has stretched to grow three babies.
The whole exercise was without any real reason and entirely for the fun of it. Although a couple of years ago, when the Mr was making moulds for work, he used the leftover ingredients for the Middle and Eldest to cast their belly buttons. It seemed only fair that the Small have her own plaster cast. Of course a collection of five is even better than three...
And we do seem to have a penchant for a random collection.
And they do fit right in with the eyeballs.
There was one unfortunate and heartbreakingly difficult situation, which involved the much-loved, honorary member of the family...
Psssst! Jess! WHERE is Colin’s belly button???
PS. If you would like to know more about this casting and moulding process the how-to is HERE. (It is precisely the same process as that used for casting the hands of babies, and the same stuff you’d use for pregnant belly bumps – and yes, of course we’ve done all those too)...
PPS. Susie, you were the first guesser to be mostly on guessing track. A Something Nice shall be postally heading in your direction. A consolation prize goes to Gemma for the most laterally thunk out, imaginative and generally unlikely scenario.
PPPS. I hereby promise to abstain from the ‘weird’ and knit nice things for the rest of the week.