Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Little Boy, Big Mess

Chickster made his first big food-related mess the other day. And I will take this opportunity to blame it on Argus. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

When feeding Chickster his dinner, I often put his food into a small Pyrex bowl to heat it in the microwave. Hey, I may be a bad Mommy who blames stuff on the dog but I'm not going to give my kid cancer by heating his food in plastic.

Didn't you get that email?

Anyway, Chickster was having a nice dinner - Sweet Potatoes in one bowl, Peas in another.

Yes, two bowls. I have issues with my food being mixed together, and while I'm not really trying to recreate those issues in my son, I don't think I could feed him mixed-together food. But I digress.

Argus began to bark in the backyard. There had been some activity over at NESN's house earlier in the day and as I had no idea what was going on, my recent "let him bark until the cows come home" attitude was a bit different at that moment. So I went outside to get the barking dog, leaving Chickster sitting in his booster seat and the food on the kitchen table.

Remember, I'm blaming Argus.

I finally caught the spazoid canine and he bounced his way inside in front of me. I stepped through the kitchen door just in time to see Chickster lean, stretch, and reach with all his might for the bowls sitting on the kitchen table. With the dog under my feet, I was just short of reaching Chickster when the very tip of his longest finger caught the edge of the bowl closest to him.

I watched in slow motion as the spoon, sweet potatoes, and little Pyrex bowl flipped through the air, grazed the chair on the way down and simultaneously bounced, splat, and shattered in the same instant.

It was lovely. Truly a work of art. Not only was there glass everywhere, but there were orange sweet potatoes from one end of the kitchen to the other in a spray of miniscule drops normally reserved for crime-scene shows. After grabbing Argus to keep him from slicing his tongue open on some tasty, shard-filled orange goo, I had a few thoughts.

My first thought: Well, crap.
My second thought: Cleaning this up is going to suck.
My third thought: I need to take pictures for the blog.

So I grabbed the camera and took a few pictures. Then I finished feeding Chickster his dinner. With a new spoon, of course. Then I cleaned up the mess.

Because I have priorities. And a dog to blame.

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  1. Well, it's official - you have moved out of the infant stage and into the toddler stage. Infant stage messes are poop and peeing in your face...but toddler stage messes take in so much more square footage...and always involve more than 1 culprit.

    And you just better get over blaming that poor, innocent dog for Caedmon's and your messes - or you are going to inflict great psychological stress on his sensitive soul.
    Is there a symbol or shortcut for tongue-in-cheek???

  2. I'd have to say at this point the dog's psychological condition is the least of my worries. Plus the fact that he's already crazy anyway.