Sunday morning shenanigans

You know how sometimes when things are going really well you pause to think, you know, it would really suck if such and such happened right about know? Well that's what happened on Sunday morning as I got the family ready for church. Hubby's in charge of getting himself cleaned up and dressed and I'm in charge of myself and the kids. I had him bring the boys up from breakfast one at a time to get them cleaned up and dressed. All hubby had to do was take them back downstairs and put their shoes on them.

Things were going well. I got Isaiah dressed with no fuss (there were the usual protests at having his hair combed) and sent him down to get his shoes. Then I got Ethan all dressed and sent him down to get his shoes. Shortly after I sent Ethan down stairs I heard a dismayed wail from Isaiah. Shortly after that I heard a very dismayed wail of, "ISAIAH," from hubby. Oh great, I thought, what disaster will I had to take care of now.

Hubby came stomping up the stairs with a wailing Isaiah who's front was completely drenched. He also had some dark red stuff around his mouth, on his cheeks, and his nose. Once I was close enough to catch the sweet fruity aroma of the stuff now dripping off of him onto the floor of the upstairs hallway I quickly discerned what had happened. (Hubby was too busy grumping back down the stairs grumbling that it was all my fault to tell me what happened himself.)

Hubby had apparently been making a pitcher of juice while I was dressing Ethan. When I sent Ethan down to him hubby left the kitchen door open to get Ethan and put his shoes on him. While hubby was thus distracted Isaiah wondered into the kitchen spied the ice cold juice concentrate in the pitcher and attempted to drink it. His attempt failed. I was thus stuck with a wailing 2 year old standing in the upstairs hallway dripping juice concentrate on the floor.

So what do I do? At this point all hope that we would get to church on time was lost. I stripped him down to his diaper (the only thing he was wearing that was spared a drenching) and tossed him into the bathroom sink to wash him off. Meanwhile he's still wailing and whining over all of the brouhaha. I took him out of the sink and let him air dry while I finished brushing my teeth (I had just started when I heard the first wail) and washed the juice off of his shoes. Then I had to go scrounge around for some clean clothes for him.

Once I had him dressed again I went down to the kitchen to survey the damage. By this time Isaiah had calmed down and was busy looking for trouble upstairs. Hubby had done a pretty good job of cleaning up the mess in the kitchen but I was still sticking to the floor. I wiped the floor down with some bleach-water just to make sure we wouldn't keep sticking to it and to make sure that we wouldn't be carried off by ants when we got back home.

Who said motherhood was dull?

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