Mess of the Week: The Red and Sticky Edition

March 23, 2009 / 1 Comment

After sending the eldest kidlet off to school on the bus, I snuggled on the couch next to the middle kidlet.  The Youngest kidlet didn't want to be left out, so she bounced on us, which made the middle kidlet upset.  I was so, so sleepy.  I put my head down on the pillow.  Kidlets were crawling over me, on top of me, sitting on my head, bouncing on my stomach, crawling under the blanket, snatching the blanket back and forth between them.  And I was so, so sleepy.  I just closed my eyes and waited, and after some time, there were no kidlets. I was just sleeping away, cozy and warm under layers of thick fleece next to the fire.  The kidlets were off, doing something else.  

It did not occur to me to find out what that something else was.

After 20 minutes or so, the youngest kidlet was tugging at me.  I opened my eyes, and in her non-consonant speech she told me that she needed help cleaning up.  I opened my eyes a little more and there she was:

Guiltystamp

Guilty.  And Sticky.  She knew she was in trouble, and she tried to clean things up herself, but it just wasn't working out, so she woke me up.  The Banana was covered with jam.

I walked into the kitchen.  There was the brand new QUART sized jar that I had just opened that morning, nearly empty.  Yes, my little friend ate almost an entire QUART of jam.  (Although, facial evidence suggests that she had some serious help from a certain big brother).  

SQjamjar

There was jam everywhere:  on the counter, on the cupboards, on the floor where it had dripped.  The dishtowels and kitchen rags were full of jam because she tried to clean things up.  There was jam on the kids computer, on the dining room table, under the dining room table, on all the chairs, and on the stepstool which had been moved to the sink.  There was jam in her hair, and up and down her arms, and even on her underwear and socks.  

And then I found the peanut butter:

Peanutbutterevidence

Yes, readers, those are finger marks.  The peanut butter jar was freshly opened this morning as well. 

So, we had a little shower.  And we had a little time out.  And I called their father because I have pictures of him at age two, stealing a full jar of jam from his grandmother and drinking it underneath the kitchen table.  We do love jam around here.  

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