Wednesday, March 13, 2013

At Least It Wasn't Asbestos

Yesterday morning, as the boys and I were gathering books and preparing for a trip to the library, I decided to run upstairs and fold a load of laundry real quick.  While folding, I began to feel a tad unwell.

No big deal.  I can sit down and fold.

The next thing I know, I'm waking up on the floor of my bedroom in a makeshift bed of clean clothes.

I panic.  How much time has passed?  Do you have any idea what a two-year-old and four-year-old boy can do with anything more than 20 minutes of unsupervised time?

I check the clock:  Thank you, Jesus.  It's only been 15 minutes, and I can hear our boys' normal chatter coming from downstairs.

I put the clothes away, congratulate myself on not randomly falling asleep again, and head downstairs.

My first thought was flour.  The consistency was a little off, though, and I didn't think flour would make Caedmon compulsively lick his hands, even while trying to look guilty.  

Then I had a vicious baby powder flashback.  But I have refused to stock baby powder in our house since that little incident.  Couldn't be baby powder.

Then I spied that little blue box.  Correction:  Those little blue boxes.

It was Jiffy pizza crust mix, and it was all. over. the first floor of our house.  I swear there wasn't a single room or piece of furniture that was untouched by this stuff.  (Except the tv, possibly because Derek has made it clear that the penalty for doing so is certain death; but I've made the same threat with my books, and I found the stuff in all our book cases.  I really don't feel like pondering too much about what this means.)

I made the boys pick up all the kitchen utensils and cookware and put it in a sinkful of sudsy water.  (Oh yeah, they also emptied one lower cabinet, a drawer, a package of almonds, and two large containers of sprinkles all over the kitchen floor.  And two boxes of Jiffy mix.  IN CASE YOU'D FORGOTTEN.)

Then I made them strip down to their skivvies and banished them to the laundry room while I started wiping down surfaces.  Coincidentally, did you know that when you combine water and pizza crust mix, it gets a little, shall we say... doughy?  And incredibly difficult to get out of the crevices of our table and, for some reason, the toilet?  (Really, boys?  The toilet?)

After getting all of three items washed off and free of powder, I check on the boys.  Atticus had taken one of his socks and dipped it into a bucket of water we have in the laundry room (don't ask), getting it nice and soaking wet.  He'd then rubbed the wet sock over everything within his reach, including Caedmon, the washer and dryer, the cabinets, the walls, and floor.  

I began to wonder why I hadn't become a nun.  No, I'm not Catholic, but I do know all the lyrics to How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?, and I've seen both Sister Act movies.  I'm a shoo-in.

I sent Atticus up to his room.  I ordered Cade to stay in the laundry room.  I got a depressingly small amount of cleaning done in 30 minutes, then realized I had forgotten about Caedmon.

Something you should know about our laundry room:  it's freezing.  Well, not freezing, but the atomic clock in there generally reads around 63 degrees this time of year.  When I picked Caedmon up in his diaper and one wet sock, he was cold.  I felt guilty and terrible. 

I took him upstairs, dressed him warmly, and put him to bed.  I did the same for Atticus. 

Then I went back downstairs and cleaned for another two hours.  I stopped feeling guilty.

Even now, doing things like reclining either end of the couch or wheeling the wagon of blocks around releases a little storm of Jiffy mix.  

I was going to write about this yesterday, but couldn't quite get over my mad.  Today, I'm regaining enough of my sense of humor to write about it, but not enough to call my mom and listen to her unsuccessfully muffle her snickers as she says faux-sympathetic things like, "B-bless *snort* your little heart *gasping laughter*."  

But then again, I can think of any number of incredibly frustrating, stupid kid things my sisters and I did to our poor mother.  Perhaps she's earned the right to laugh.  

Maybe someday I'll laugh about this, too.  Just not today.


  1. I'm laughing--complete with the snort.

    Because *this time* it's you and not me.

    And that first picture of C--oh man, that's adorable. The Lord knew what He was doing when He made them cute beyond words. It was so we wouldn't wring their darling little necks. ;)

  2. Oh my god. I can only laugh because it isn't my house. Not that I keep a particularly spotless house, but I just can not imagine the effort it took to clean up, from those photos. You deserve a kid-free vacation! Isn't it a pity life doesn't supply those?

  3. After reading that title and the first few sentences of this blog post, I was worried this was a story about carbon monoxide poisoning. Obviously, from reading the other comments, I was the only one with these initial thoughts... Go figure.

  4. Just think how clean your house is now! You should be thanking them!!! And maybe it's better than your vinegar mix????? :)

  5. AAAAAAAAH! I would have screamed and left the house for three days. How the heck do children think of doing these things?

  6. That was so funny! I"m sorry, but i'm laughing. I don't understand though, I raised 3 boys and they made plenty of messes, but never with kitchen products like your kids. For this I am very grateful. Maybe yours are just more sensory and need that input from powdery white substances.


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