I went upstairs, by myself, to pee (big mistake, I know). As I was finishing, I heard the sound of dry pasta being poured out. I roared, “NOOOOO!!!” as I ran downstairs with my pants around my ankles. The scene was much worse than I expected. The total contents of the containers holding expensive, organic, whole wheat flour and pasta, and a glass of equally expensive and organic apple juice, had been poured all over the kitchen island and floor. My flour-covered toddler was gleefully playing in the horrible, horrible mess. When she saw me, she cheerfully announced, “Look what I did, Mom!”
That was 40 minutes ago. The intervening time has been spent cleaning, and re-cleaning (since I insisted that perpetrator help me). I have now employed the electronic babysitter, and am taking some deep breaths, since Jon’s off covering a soccer game and I am flying solo this evening. The only hope on the horizon is that there will be an early bedtime, since Hannah didn’t really nap today.
Then, I will knit and watch horrible reality TV and reflect on how peaceful kids are when they’re sleeping. 😉