The Day Of The Spills

I have absolutely no idea what was going on the other night. Things were getting knocked over, spilled, and well, soiled with liquids. Okay, peed on.

It all started with R., but of course. As it seems of late, you can't leave her alone for more than a few minutes. I think we had reached minute number three and I went to check on her. She was in the boys bedroom. The tornado that she is had pretty much demolished the room. There were toys everywhere. I looked down at T.'s bed to see something splashed across his comforter. It was bubble solution.

I removed the comforter and threw it in the laundry room. I went back upstairs to put a blanket on his bed and find R. standing with legs, wide apart, in a puddle.

"Hee hee, mama, I peed!"

No kidding.

So, I clean that up.

We are trying to get R. to stop using sippy cups. We only place a small amount of milk in her cup at dinner time, usually, so if it gets bumped the mess is minimal. Mr. Schmitty filled the cups that night. Not so minimal. I guess he forgot to ease up on her refill.

BAM! Milk all over the table. Mr. Schmitty cleans it up.

He sits down. BAM! He knocks over his glass. Sprite all over the table. Sorry dude, you are getting that one too.

He begins to sit in his chair again and realizes that R. is trying to lean over the table but is a million miles from it.

He gets up, pushes in her chair, though doesn't realize she is trying to drink her newly refilled cup of milk.

BAM! Milk all down the front of her.

BAM! T. begins laughing so hard he shoots his milk out of every facial orifice.

Time to buy a cow.