A couple days ago, Sugar Mommy wrote about An Incident in which one of her children tried to bring about his early demise by tearing up Styrofoam in his room, creating a blizzard right in the comfort of his own bedroom, taking all the clothes out of a drawer and peeing on them. On purpose.
I laughed.
I laughed so hard I almost hurt myself.
Mostly I laughed because, well, Sugar Mommy can be so darned funny. And because I’ve been there before. And in my mean little heart, because it wasn’t happening to me, this time.
OK. So.
I then promptly had the following go down, in rapid fire:
- Half of vacation I was going to be able to take preempted by Danger Mouse peeing on herself at school
- Damp vomit chunks in the Dust Buster (WHO, I ask you, WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MINDS, uses a Dust Buster on WET VOMIT?!?!) (I will speak no further of this – it will require years of therapy before I can say any more.)
- “Mommy, I don’t have any clean pajamas. {pause} or underwear {pause} or socks {pause} or…” “OK! OK, I GET THE POINT!!”
- And then…Captain Adventure found a box that had contained these little figurines. The figurines were packed in…uh huh…Styrofoam. Particularly brittle Styrofoam, the kind that upon being picked at shatters in pieces so small and plentiful that it really does resemble snow.
It was a veritable Winter Wonderland in the playroom. Not only did Captain Adventure pull at the stuff, but Danger Mouse and Boo Bug cheerfully joined in. And when I descended upon them in wrath and fury demanding to know W.T.Holy.Ever.Loving.HELL they thought they were doing?
“But mommy, Captain Adventure started it!”
Let’s review.
Captain Adventure: 26 months
Boo Bug: Five years
Danger Mouse: Six and a half
Captain Adventure I expect to do things like pry Styrofoam out of a box, break it into tiny pieces, eat some and spread the rest throughout the house.
BUT HIS BIG SISTERS I EXPECT TO KNOW BETTER.
Guess what else I learned? Styrofoam that has been broken into bits about the size of rice grains do not sweep up off Pergo.
In point of fact, they run away from the broom, at incredible speed, and hide under the furniture.
When you walk away, they are sucked back out and lie in the middle of the floor smirking at you.
I had to get out the Dust Buster (which was how I discovered the damp vomit chunks therein), and then I had to get the vacuum cleaner (because the Dust Buster is currently in the trash can, and I’m not 100% sure I will calm down enough to take it out and clean it), and as I was sucking the Styrofoam off the floor I realized that the floor is dirty-dirty-dirty.
So then I discovered that I’m almost out of Scooba cleaner, and there is only one (1) place in town that carries it.
They also carry Dust Busters. Including the more expensive European versions and cool, funky ones that would express my quirky personality brilliantly.
…you see the problem here?...
This, people, is karma in action. Go ahead. Laugh at my hardships. Because I tell you what, I’m downright eager to pass this particular batch of karmic justice to someone else right now…
7 comments:
I'm sorry but I can't help but laugh... laugh long and loud too. Oh that is too funny. So please don't send my Karma my way for laughing... a lot!
I love it! I always wonder who they are going to blame things on once the babies get vocal enough to defend themselves.
I'd make whoever sucked up the chunky bits into the dustbuster do the cleaning-out! Then you won't need to buy another one; retribution AND frugality. What more could you want?!
Awwwww crud. I laughed through that whole thing and then you threw that karma sentence in there. It shut me right up. Gotta go hide all the styrofoam.
OMG, I hope my kids don't read this or they will get IDEAS. And believe me, they come up with plenty of ideas all on their own.
Good luck with the Styrofoam, cleaning all that up is like eliminating glitter from the house. (What WERE their teachers thinking?)
Oh no...I'm laughing because I've been there. I've been there...ask me about how cat barf resembles cat food and how the baby likes to EAT cat food... just ask me... no, nevermind... you've got your own problems... (but I'm still laughing!!)
Okay, I will let you in on a little secret I have learned since moving into this house with so many damned hardwood floors. Two words...Swivel. Sweeper. Yes that thing on the infomercial. That thing freakin rocks! It gets up everything off of those floors. Unfortunately...the boys bedroom is carpeted. My Electrolux did a pretty good job. But the washing machine may never recover from the influx of little styrofoam pieces.
Also. Vomit chunks in the dustbuster. *gag*
Cleaning vomit with a dustbuster sounds like something my husband would do - just to botch it so badly that I would never ask him to clean vomit again.
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