Have you ever had one of those days?? You know, the sort of day when any and every possible thing that could go wrong, does. Spectacularly, fantastically wrong. So wrong that any attempt you make to restore balance is instantly rebuffed, resulting in an avalanche effect of mess,tears and bodily fluids. Yeah, we’ve all had them. Allow me to describe the day I had today.
***** If you are squeamish about gross stuff, maybe just skip this, ’cause its about to get pretty gross****
I woke later than I meant to, but I was cautiously optimistic. We’ve just muddled through a few colds/stomach bugs, a surprise root canal for me a few days ago, and a general lack of sleep. Ben went out and got
us coffee me iced lattes before he had to go to work. He had mopped the kitchen and generally straightened up. “Yeah things are looking good.” I think to myself. I’m rested, the pain I’ve been living with for a 1.5 weeks is pretty much gone and I’m feeling motivated. Yeah… this is good. Ben leaves for work, and I hatch a plan for the day. An episode of Olivia and a few emails later, we’re ready to tackle my list. Willow loves “helping” me bake and I’ve been day dreaming about a certain (in my opinion) PERFECT yellow buttermilk cake recipe lately . Willow sent a bowl of (measured and sifted) flour clattering to the floor. No big deal, stainless steel bowl and I’ve got enough flour to make it work. Cupcakes are more fun, so we get the batter in the pans and head to the living room where Willow gets introduced to play dough.
I get up, walk to the kitchen to rotate the trays of cupcakes. The oven door opens and the gentle smell of buttermilk,vanilla and caramelizing sugar hits me. Inhale, sigh, I am momentarily transported 3,100 miles away to the Palate Pleasers kitchens and a flash of my former chef days. And then, I hear it, a blood curdling scream “AHHHHH EWWWWWWWWW MOOOOMMMYYYY”
My eyes fly open and I feel my heart pounding against my ribs as that familiar parent fear grips me all over. (.01 seconds have passed)
Luna comes tearing into the kitchen, collides with a wall and proceeds to projectile vomit all over the freshly (twice) mopped floor. The most horrible smell I’ve ever encountered chokes out all of the cake aroma. From the other room, the “EWWWWWW” is getting more frantic. I drop the hot trays I’m holding and dash for the living room. (.05 seconds have passed)
Rounding the corner, I watch in slow motion as Willow projectile vomits on the floor. The dog had barfed all over her and the ENTIRE couch before sprinting to the kitchen to continue the mayhem. (2 seconds have passed since the first scream).
I sprint a hysterical sobbing baby to the tub, strip her and give her a popsicle. Catch the dog and throw her outside for the time being. As I grab her, it suddenly becomes clear what’s happened. Luna, our sweet, completely dim-witted puppy, found a huge pile of Boomer (our duplex neighbor’s bigger dog) poop**. And ate it. Apparently, it wasn’t sitting well. I WONDER WHY? OMG OMG OMG OMG. But ever the responsible parent, I leave everything where it is to go comfort and bathe Willow. (2 minuets have passed).
8 minuets later, willow’s clean enough to let me tackle the war zone in the rest of the house. The most god awful smell has made its way into every single bit of clean air.Worse than restaurant grease traps, worse than old roadkill. Oh my god, this how I’m going to die, awash in shit with gremlins (children and puppies) dancing on my cold dead body. I get myself together and approach the couch. The closer I got, the more overwhelming the stench. All of the sudden, I’m retching and, oh hey! here comes that latte again. Damn it! People that know me well can attest that I have an iron stomach. Unless I’m pregnant. Which I’m not, cause my period totally chose today to start, ahem, hello icing meet cake. But I digress, I get myself together and go for attempt 2. I get a foot closer before running to ditch the rest of my latte. So time for the big guns. I spray a ton of rosewater into my thickest, longest scarf. I wrapped it as tightly as I could around my head and safety pinned it in place. This is barely enough fortification to allow me to strip the couch, scrub the floor in the living room and kitchen, scrub the wall and give the dog a bath as she’s a mess out on the porch, too.
So, almost two hours later, 1/2 a bottle of Febreeze, every single window in the house open and the smell still lingering, I finally get a chance to stop freaking out and sit down. All while trying to pretend that none of that just happened. And then, right on cue, as soon as my body was beginning to relax and recover, I opened my eyes. Noticing a rather peculiar streak of dark on the hardwoods leading from a point several feet from me, right to…. Willow’s diaper. I had completely forgotten that yesterday, she snuck into the fridge, took 2 pints of blueberries, hid them, and proceeded to eat nearly all of them. So here before me,is a gigantic blueberry blowout, the likes of which has never been seen by mankind. Shower, rinse and repeat. Yes, that’s right, I said REPEAT. Two blowouts, in one hour and fifteen minuets.
And just like that, I realized my life had become an episode of the Three Stooges or possibly, and perhaps more probably, Jackass.
So that was my day. As I sit here a few hours later (post a nice cool gin and tonic) I’m going to choose to see the humor in this complete travesty of a Thursday and move on. I hope this made you chuckle and I hope this never happens to anyone ever again 🙂
Good thing they’re cute ‘eh?