So her complaint was mostly ignored, although we let her sit on the couch for a while. When she said she felt better, I let her come back to the table and encouraged her to eat more. As per our usual routine, I tried to persuade her by offering dessert after a certain goal was met. Well, time ran out and she didn't reach her goal, so I didn't give her dessert. And in hindsight it was certainly for the best.
Amanda had already left to attend a Beth Moore Bible study with other women at church. The kitchen was a mess too, and I had just finished getting Clara down from the table. I had given her a small piece of chocolate cake, which she had eaten hand to mouth (still working on the fork skills). Needless to say, there were cake crumbs all over the kitchen and probably in three adjacent rooms besides. By now it was getting late and the kids still needed to get a bath before going to bed.
I was just finishing cleaning Clara's mess when Emily ran past me and into the bathroom. "I throwed up!" echoed from around the corner of the doorway. "Well, at least she made it to the bathroom" I thought "which means it should mostly be in the toilet, right?" Well, maybe not in the toilet.

After cleaning up the mess and starting a load of laundry, I bathed the kids and got them to bed. It was an hour later than usual, but the end of the evening was never more welcomed.
1 comment:
Ok, so here I am... I just loved your "gross" category. (Maybe because I've been dealing with this issue this past week on the home front myself?)
Post a Comment