I stupidly made a pitcher of red kool-aid today.
I say stupidly because I wasn’t thinking of the clothes that I dressed Kaylee in when I decdied to make the kool-aid. But why would I? Last time I checked what a child is wearing should have no impact on their ability to drink a glass of kool-aid. And we got through lunch with her eating pizza and drinking the red kool-aid without a single spot or spill on her WHITE shirt. Somehow I should have known that I was tempting fate.
It’s been a crazy week. Matt is out of town again, I had physical therapy on Monday and today, yesterday the kids got their pictures taken, and Cameron’s replacement glasses came in this afternoon so we had to pick those up to. By the time we were done with our running today, I was dead tired and really not in the mood to cook. So I ran us through the McDonalds drive through and headed home to feed my hungry children.
When we got home, I sent the kids to the kitchen table, and made a quick stop into my bedroom to use the restroom. I couldn’t have even been in there for a full minute when Brendan starts hollering at the top of his lungs, “Mom! Come quick, there’s been an accident!!!”
Images start running through my head as I quickly got myself into a presentable state. I figured somehow Cameron had managed to cut off a foot, or Kaylee had pulled down the curtain on the back door, or something equally as horrible given the tone of Brendan’s voice. As I turn the corner into the living room I hollered back, “What happened?” To which Brendan replies, “A spill.” Relief. Its not as bad as I was imagining. Then I get into the kitchen, and suddenly its a whole lot worse again.
Remember the kool-aid from lunch? I’d left the pitcher sitting in the center of my 6 foot dining room table. Far enough in that little arms shouldn’t have been able to reach it. Unfortunately, I hadn’t stopped to think that in the time it took me to use the restroom that Kaylee would climb onto the table, and that the boys would just allow her to do this without any fuss, that she would slide the pitcher over to her spot at the table and dump about half of it down the front of her shirt.
What an icky sticky mess that was. We have a rug underneath our table since the kitchen has a wood floor. Lucky for me I was wise when I purchased it, and its forest green. So the copious amounts of kool-aid that hit the floor blended right in. The rug is also amazing at absorption. Not a single drop wicked through the rubber lining and onto my wood floor. That rug has survived three children now, and while it may not look as beautiful as it did when we bought it, that thing has been worth its weight in gold when it comes to spills. Next I tackled the table. It took 8 paper towels to get the puddle wiped up. Then I had to go over it again with a sponge to get rid of the sticky residue. But that would wait until after I tackled the princess herself. First things first I whipped off the sodden shirt. I immediately dumped it into the washing machine hoping that washing it before the red kool-aid had time to set would enable me to save the shirt. Once I had the washer running I went back to Kaylee (who by the way hadn’t moved an inch since spilling the juice. I’m trying to figure out if it startled her that badly, or if she was just stuck to her seat). I pulled her down from the chair and stripped her out of her pants. These were also soaking wet, but as they were black I set them aside to be washed later. Her diaper also needed changed as it had soaked in a large amount of what had been spilled onto her pants and now looked as though it weighed at least 50 pounds. After she was finally cleaned I went to lift her back into her chair and stopped when I realized there was one more place that needed cleaned. Her chair looked as though her diaper had sprung a kool-aid colored leak. Another half dozen paper towels, and a sponging down later and we could finally eat.
I swear, only my children could manage to create such havoc in so short a span.