For sometime now I have prided myself on keeping the house up. With a 3 year old, Tractor Man, and 1 year old, Tag Along, I find this to be a challenge everyday.
Thanksgiving was at our home this year and I was pleased and proud of our small family for having hosted fourteen people in our home! Things went well and most of the mess was cleaned up soon after their departure.
Now, skip ahead a few days later and there are very few things that show that Thanksgiving was held at our home. Some spare turkey and stuffing in the refrigerator. A turkey pot pie, made with all of the leftovers.
The lone pumpkin pie, with one small wedge missing, sits on the table as the only true reminder of the day.
Tonight that pie is gone. I never even had a piece of it. Was it snacked on by our wonderful family? Well sort of…
As I was in the living room rocking a very tired Tag Along to sleep I could hear Tractor Man in the kitchen giggling. Tractor Man’s giggle usually means he is up to something.
Things were pretty quiet so I figured whatever it was had to be pretty simple and not a major issue. Reminder to myself and a lesson learned, Tractor Man’s giggle means trouble.
Upon completing rocking Tag Along to sleep I found out that my wonderfully clean dining room was in need of some serious help again.
The giggling that had been heard was that of a three year old boy enjoying sticking his hand into a wonderful pumpkin pie. He then decided to throw bits of it to the dog. Seems harmless enough, except a three year old does not have the best food throwing abilities.
The pie bits also got onto the table, chairs, wall, mixer and fish tank. That poor fish goes through a lot with my boys.
I must admit tonight I failed at keeping my house clean but I also learned a few things too. Never trust the giggle of a three year old. Never leave a pie unattended and expect it to survive on its’ own. And probably most importantly the dog will do anything for food.
Yes my dining room needs some cleaning but I will remember that giggle for a long time to come. Plus the dog seems pleased with the end results of my simple failure.
It’s good to know that my life is washable.