Casey was out of town until Saturday morning. So Leah and I reverted back to our summertime routine: with no one else to watch her, I turned on Sesame Street, got out her toys and hopped in the shower.
Typically, I don't worry about her, although I do tend to rush through my showers and sometimes can't remember if I washed the conditioner out of my hair. But really, the outlets are covered, there's a gate at the top of the stairs, the cabinets are childproofed, and generally I feel pretty confident that she's at an age where she can't do too much damage in a matter of 15 minutes.
Besides that, she always comes into the bathroom to check in on me, and I hear her babbling away to herself and her toys, so I always know she's okay.
So when I was washing the shampoo out of my hair and hadn't heard a peep from her, I got a little worried. I called her name, expecting her to come running.
I tried again. Still no answer.
Edging a bit closer to panic, I stuck my head out of the shower.
Which is when I saw what she'd been up to the whole time:
It seems Casey has a hidden stash that a) I didn't know about and b) was somewhere Leah was able to find.
No wonder she was so quiet! She wasn't too pleased when I got out and had to lay a finger on her Butterfinger...