My house smells like spices. If you walked in right now you would think I have something yummy cooking in the oven, maybe a turkey or perhaps a roast. But you would be wrong. I have nothing cooking, no delicious dinner simmering away.
I was up here typing away while I thought Toddler and Baby were down watching Cars for the bazillionth time. I suddenly hear the sound of something being poured out. I wasn't sure what and quickly ran through what might be pourable downstairs in my brain, but couldn't think of anything that would make that particular sound. Turns out black peppercorns make that sound, and I got to the top of the stairs just in time to see Toddler dumping my parsley flakes all over the ground, along with the onion powder, lemon pepper, and tons of other seasonings layering the kitchen floor. I yelled "Dang it!" which Toddler knows means he's in trouble. He got a quick spank on the bottom and sent to the couch while I swept up the pile and sneezed through the cloud of spice dust. Luckily, he only completely emptied 4, and only one of those I use regularly, the others I have extras or rarely use. He partially emptied another 8 bottles. There was about a pound of spices, which is quite a bit for spices.
So that is why my house smells like I've been cooking, and why Toddler needs to be watched at all times!