Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Mom or Maid?

Last night, when the boys were still at football, I rushed around putting the last of the clean clothes away and straightening up my bathroom that looked like a bomb had hit it. Earlier in the day, I had scrubbed down the kitchen and mopped the floors. I had just plugged in the vacuum to finish things off when I heard a not good sound coming from the kitchen. I walked in there to find that Brylee had picked up a full bottle of Gatorade from off the kitchen counter and thinking it had a lid on -she SHOOK IT. Purple Gatorade splattered my entire kitchen. It was dripping off the ceiling. It was sprayed up the refrigerator. It was running down the wall and soaking the tile. I quickly ordered her, Ella and the neighbor girl out back before I said something I would regret. I spent the next hour trying to clean up the impossible mess. I am sure that in the light of the day, I will find more splatters and more drips, only this time they will be all dried up and stuck.

The floor was still wet from being remopped when the football kids started coming in from practice. There wasn't much I could do and soon the floor was printed with the smudges of dirty feet and dirty cleats. Then Scott, upon seeing no dinner and thinking himself to be helpful said,

"why don't we have burritos tonight, they're easy."

To which I snapped...

"Easy for who? The one who gets to make them and clean them up or for the rest of you that get to eat it?"

Then he said, "OK, I'll pick something up."

Then of course I said,


Even though I wasn't that sorry because with the sweat from all my work still beading on my forehead, I felt fully justified. So I filled him in on the fun time I had cleaning up a volcanic eruption of Gatorade. After having cleaned up the regular kitchen messes and the messes in all the rest of the house and washing, folding and putting away, 6 loads of wash. Not to mention, although I did, the care and feeding of 5 dependant souls.

We had a grocery store, rotisserie chicken for dinner.

The end.

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