Did you know there is an entire website dedicated to fake food, AND food that looks like it's spilled but really hasn't?! Check out this site for more. It's hilarious!
What's not hilarious? The horrible fight we've been having (and losing) with gravity around here. I remember when Nugget was in the nicu and I had to pump for him. They had the tiniest little bottles and one fell over, spilling about 1.5 oz of milk. I wanted to CRY it looked like so much. It is amazing how much more of something there is when it's all over your floor.
That came back to haunt me this week.
Tuesday, I mopped my floors. No, not mopped. Scrubbed. Hands and knees cleaning. Just as I finished them, I looked out to see it raining. Bring on the muddy foot and paw prints! Oh, but if only that were the abuse the floors had to endure this week.
Wednesday, Nugget scaled the pantry shelves looking for a snack resulting in a Costco-sized (read 42 oz) bag of plain M&M's being dumped all over the floor.
Thursday, the kids wanted cereal as a snack, so I pulled out the tupperware tub of rice crispies. Strip insisted that she could pour it, so I supervised. Great job Strip! A few minutes later, I scooted upstairs to take a shower and get ready for a meeting I was going to that night. I come down to find Strip had re-filled their bowls..and the table...and the chair...and the floor with rice crispies.
Friday morning, I fixed myself a mocha and PUT A LID ON IT based on the week. I was working on some stuff for work and Strip squeezed in next to me to see what I was doing. I reminded her to be careful that my coffee was right there on the table (where she was swinging her arm around). She took this as an invitation to stretch out, punching my coffee cup with lid off the table causing it to EXPLODE all over the floor.
Get that cleaned up, re-make my coffee. 45 minutes later, I hear the fridge open followed by a drop, slosh, oooooooOOOOoopppppPPPpps. Strip was getting a sip of her milk and I guess it was heavier than she thought resulting in MORE spilled milk on the floor and in the fridge.
This morning, I come downstairs to a puddle of pee from Zoe by the front door.
I refuse to mop again (I did clean up the pee. I'm not on that big of a strike). It just seems like my floors are rebelling against being clean. Why try to fight it?