Or, Finding Your Inner Artist (aka "I Just Gotta Be Meee!")
Turns out we've got quite the creative type on our hands here.
This weekend I unknowingly became a patron of the arts when I noticed that the sound of Po crunch-crunching on a marrow bone gave way to a suspicious silence, more snuffling about, then a great big plastic "crack, squish!"...hmmm.
...to which I then saw this:
Lesson learned: Don't ever assume that boxes containing, say, concentrated gel paste food colouring, are safe from wily teenagers bent on expressing themselves! Even if said blue paste is left in a box, on a shelf, and contained in an otherwise pretty tightly sealed little tub. (He's a regular David Blaine, he is.)