The CranRaspberry Juice Incident
First of all, let me tell a story about the Lemonade Incident that happened just a few short months ago. Hayley and Matt had a lemonade stand one day. While filling up a glass pitcher, which had a nozzle for juice dispensing action, (and can you see where I'm going with this, the pitcher being GLASS?) Hayley somehow jostled it or knocked it or something while it was FULL of sugary sweet lemonade and popped a hole in the glass pitcher low enough to effect a full-scale lemonadey deluge in the kitchen. I happened to be writing a talk I was going to give at church at the time and was somewhat stressed out even before the juice made its way to the floor (and subsequently THROUGH the floor to the bathroom below as well). So when the breakage occurred, Jim, ever considerate of my fragile state during talk-writing times, helped Hayley clean up the mess.
Today was my turn, only with CranRaspberry juice.
I was driving home from taking Paul to an ortho appointment. I had Fake Child with me in the car. She was begging to go to the park and I was on the brink of giving in. But I explained that I had to go home to see if everything was all right before we went to the park. Not that I had a nagging feeling about imminent disaster, I just needed to give FC an excuse so I could go home first and grab a book before heading out to the park. Hayley was the only one home at the time, and I didn't think she would be in need of me.
I was wrong.
I opened the door and heard whimpering and sniffling. There she was on the floor with a single paper towel trying to mop up several acres of red juice. Now I had CranRaspberry juice on hand because Hayley is suffering from a cold and juice tastes better than water when one has a cold. I didn't get out the exact events that led up to the, well, what looked to be a veritable explosion--there were red dots ALL. OVER. THE KITCHEN. AND THE DINING ROOM. (You can tell I'm serious because of the number of periods I've inserted randomly into the previous sentence) Hayley was too distressed for coherent explanation. But I didn't really need to know WHY the juice was all over the place, we just needed to clean it up.
And there she was with a single sheet of paper towel. I sighed, and told her to get real towels.
Now, I'm not supposed to complain, right? No one likes a complainer or a whiner. So we'll get right to the FORTUNATELYs
Fortunately, all our towels are mere months from being rags, so sopping up red juice with "the good towels" is not an issue.
Fortunately, I was not in the middle of something (like writing a talk, or something equally mind and time consuming). I had just gotten home and my only plans were to go to the park.
Fortunately, Hayley didn't have anywhere to go either.
Fortunately, I was given the opportunity to quiet the voices in my head that have been reminding me that there are places in the kitchen that are NOT clean, like under the stove, behind the stove, both sides of the stove and the cabinet sides of the stove. It was gross, and now it is not anymore. The juice had pooled underneath the stove prior to making the final waterfall descent into the basement bathroom (where I have not yet ventured--I need a bit of a breather) so it necessitated the moving of the stove, which...
Fortunately, I am capable of doing. (Unfortunately, I am NOT capable of moving the fridge. That will have to wait until the Muscle gets home)
Fortunately, I was not in a mood to get all angry and start shouting. I just told Hayley what needed to be done, how to do it, and dug in.
Fortunately, I was able to joke around. I mentioned to her, "This is what happens when you don't do your sweeping job every morning." She got a puzzled look on her face, paused, then said, "Oh, I thought you were saying something REASONABLE."
Fortunately, Hayley is old enough to recognize when she is responsible for something and she starts right in to make it better. She didn't complain ONCE about having to clean or it taking to long or why do I have to clean things that aren't directly affected by the juice (she had to mop the WHOLE dining room floor, not just the half that was covered by red dots).
Fortunately, it took long enough so now I don't have to go to the park.
Today was my turn, only with CranRaspberry juice.
I was driving home from taking Paul to an ortho appointment. I had Fake Child with me in the car. She was begging to go to the park and I was on the brink of giving in. But I explained that I had to go home to see if everything was all right before we went to the park. Not that I had a nagging feeling about imminent disaster, I just needed to give FC an excuse so I could go home first and grab a book before heading out to the park. Hayley was the only one home at the time, and I didn't think she would be in need of me.
I was wrong.
I opened the door and heard whimpering and sniffling. There she was on the floor with a single paper towel trying to mop up several acres of red juice. Now I had CranRaspberry juice on hand because Hayley is suffering from a cold and juice tastes better than water when one has a cold. I didn't get out the exact events that led up to the, well, what looked to be a veritable explosion--there were red dots ALL. OVER. THE KITCHEN. AND THE DINING ROOM. (You can tell I'm serious because of the number of periods I've inserted randomly into the previous sentence) Hayley was too distressed for coherent explanation. But I didn't really need to know WHY the juice was all over the place, we just needed to clean it up.
And there she was with a single sheet of paper towel. I sighed, and told her to get real towels.
Now, I'm not supposed to complain, right? No one likes a complainer or a whiner. So we'll get right to the FORTUNATELYs
Fortunately, all our towels are mere months from being rags, so sopping up red juice with "the good towels" is not an issue.
Fortunately, I was not in the middle of something (like writing a talk, or something equally mind and time consuming). I had just gotten home and my only plans were to go to the park.
Fortunately, Hayley didn't have anywhere to go either.
Fortunately, I was given the opportunity to quiet the voices in my head that have been reminding me that there are places in the kitchen that are NOT clean, like under the stove, behind the stove, both sides of the stove and the cabinet sides of the stove. It was gross, and now it is not anymore. The juice had pooled underneath the stove prior to making the final waterfall descent into the basement bathroom (where I have not yet ventured--I need a bit of a breather) so it necessitated the moving of the stove, which...
Fortunately, I am capable of doing. (Unfortunately, I am NOT capable of moving the fridge. That will have to wait until the Muscle gets home)
Fortunately, I was not in a mood to get all angry and start shouting. I just told Hayley what needed to be done, how to do it, and dug in.
Fortunately, I was able to joke around. I mentioned to her, "This is what happens when you don't do your sweeping job every morning." She got a puzzled look on her face, paused, then said, "Oh, I thought you were saying something REASONABLE."
Fortunately, Hayley is old enough to recognize when she is responsible for something and she starts right in to make it better. She didn't complain ONCE about having to clean or it taking to long or why do I have to clean things that aren't directly affected by the juice (she had to mop the WHOLE dining room floor, not just the half that was covered by red dots).
Fortunately, it took long enough so now I don't have to go to the park.
Comments
But I will sleep well knowing that the niche which houses my stove is clean. And Jim says he cleaned properly under and behind the fridge.
Really, I am surprised that I wasn't angrier. I suppose it helped that Hayley was well aware of the situation and the consequences. And it got me out of going to the park when it was sunny out (I hate heat).