Not long ago I wrote optimistically of how certain I was that my messy days were diminishing. Well, I think I spoke a little too soon.
My problem, I think, is that I underestimated my son's ability to stay out of things and not make a mess. And then I overestimated the ability of the apple juice lid to stay on the bottle and hold in the apple juice. I also failed to factor in the circumstances of making eggs and talking on the phone at the same time, thus rendering me too distracted to get Israel his juice before a disaster struck. Therefore, a disaster did strike.
Now, of course, in the grand scheme of things, this was nothing. Compared to the entire world and the events of the entire world, and hurricanes and tornadoes and war and poverty and AIDS epidemics, this was basically a nonevent. But in my world, my small, everyday, mommy world, this definitely qualifies as a event.
You see what happened was that Israel tried to pick up the juice container, one of those big Wal-Mart apple juices, which was about three quarters full. Obviously, it was very heavy for an almost three year old, which resulted in him dropping it. That's when, somehow or other, the lid must've hit the floor, and it broke.
And that is when half of the apple juiced poured out onto the kitchen floor.
And that's when I almost burned the eggs because I was trying frantically to mop up the juice.
And while I was keeping the eggs from burning, Izzy decided to squeeze out the paper towels that had soaked up the juice all over the floor. As if there wasn't enough juice on the floor already.
And that is when I considered tearing out my hair.