I totally intended to finish catching up on our Christmas post.
But then life just kinda hits ya upside the head (or on the back of the head, in Itty Bit’s case)..
If last week was the attack of the solids, the last few days have been one insidious liquid-fest.
To start with… how on earth do you wash a kid’s hair when he’s got a big ole cut and bandage?
Especially when he really needs a good shampoo after playing in the flour and sugar and LAYING DOWN IN IT.
Now he looks like he has some really sparkly dandruff.
Let’s just say that someone wasn’t too upset that he didn’t have to get his head wet…
Somehow, he still managed to get the entire bathroom soaked anyway…
The barstool in front of the refrigerator was a dead giveaway.
I grabbed the camera and snuck up on a certain kiddo.
(By this point, you didn’t need to be able to hear to know that he was going MMMMM!)
Excuse me honey? Did you ask if you could have some ice cream?
Oh but Mommy, I was just pretending!
(Stifling laughter from behind the camera)
Honey, it’s not pretending when it’s dripping down your chin…
Itty Bit decided to “help” clean the kitchen.
Trust me, when your 4-year old says, “Mommy, I made a pool”…
RUN, don’t walk.
Preferably with about 14 kitchen towels.
He “cleaned” with exactly 7/8 of an entire container of this:
Specifically, in copious amounts all over the floor and underneath the microwave.
And upon attempting to clean it, we were nearly forced out of the house by bubbles.
Our apologies to everyone in town.
Itty Bit trying to pour himself a glass of juice. Which meant that I turned to see him hightailing it out of the kitchen saying, “it was an ACCIDENT!”
You know… I can handle “accidents”. But this particularly spectacular crime scene meant that the juice had reactivated the soap residue covering eleventy square feet of the kitchen floor, and we now had a slippery mass of cran-tangerine scented bubbles to slide in.
Fourteen more kitchen towels.
But Liquid #5?
Liquid #5 was not Itty Bitty’s fault. Liquid #5 was not Mommy’s fault. Liquid #5 was that insane hose with a grudge.
Remember I told you about the beast that came alive and attacked me? Oh come on, it was only a month ago
Well surprise surprise, we’re still breaking ice for the horses in this freezing weather.
I trek out to the pasture, turn on the hose and stick it in the water bucket.
I go to work on the other bucket, breaking up ice chunks with my hands and scooping them out.
(No gloves to be seen – since I’m so smart about that stuff and all).
And as I’m scooping them out barehanded, the hose suddenly flips backwards out of the bucket (I told you it was alive!) and catches me square across the face.
The full face spray knocks my glasses askew, drenches my hair, and hits me in one bone-chilling gasp of a deluge.
Except that it wouldn’t be me if it wasn’t extra special.
The darn thing goes vertical – shooting chunks of ice – and curves around to lodge itself IN MY COLLAR.
In case you missed it.
IN MY COLLAR.
CHUNKS OF ICE.
You’re either laughing or praying that I never come visit you.
After screaming (for the benefit of no one around), I dislodged the prankster hose from behind my neck, shoved it back into the bucket, and resumed my freezing work. As a last insult, it snapped out of the bucket once more and caught the entire side of my leg.
Itty Bit looked at me in total confusion when I shivered back into the house a dripping mess.
And you know what?
It was absolutely worth it as he carefully took my reddened fingers in his little hands,
Dear Jesus, make Mommy’s fingers not cold anymore.
I tell ya, I just melted right there.
And to end it off with a non-liquid adventure? Mr. Daddy cracked open the fireplace and made us some treats!
(Ohmygoodness – who gave that kid a sharp object?!?!)
You guys may never hear about Christmas…