Oh. My. God. [act 4]

I keep putting this post off until I’ve cooled down enough to laugh at the situation. The problem with this theory is that this has happened three days in a row now.

After today’s incident, I just don’t care anymore. Husband, of course, will be furious because this certain budget has suddenly gone through the roof. (more to come later on the “budget” issue)

To begin…

Day 1:

Buddy just celebrated his second birthday on 2/22. This past Saturday (2/25) we were planning on having some family and friends over and having a little party for him. I had spent the previous night picking up and doing odds and ends and cleaning things. Of course, that morning Husband had to run in to work for a few hours to finish up a few projects so I was on my own to do the preparations for the party. This wouldn’t have been that big of a deal if Buddy wouldn’t have picked that day, of all days, to make the grand-daddy of messes throughout the first floor of our house.

It started out with me giving his sisters a bath. He always tries to jump in the tub with them and I didn’t have the time to deal with it so I locked him out of the bathroom and got to work. Approx. fifteen minutes later, I opened the door to find this:

What on earth… ?

My very first thought was, “What the heck?! Did he whip his willy back and forth while peeing on the carpet? (I will say this once, this would not surprise me.)

Then, as my eyes lifted I clutched my chest and gasped in horror as this came into view:

Dear god… what happened?!

No… this most definitely wasn’t Buddy’s willy at work. Now I looked closer and realized the dark brown color. What is this?! Some kind of… *grooooooan* … Noooooo. Please god no. If it’s this it’ll be impossible to get out.

My shock slowly recedes and is replaced by rage and despair. I am most definitely beginning to notice the smell now but I’m still in denial. There’s no way Buddy could have gotten into this. It’s locked away in a cabinet with a child proof lock seven feet from the ground. No. WAY. could Buddy have gotten this.

I go to the kitchen and find the cabinet still locked. I open it and find the item in question missing. What the… Oh no. no, no, no. Where is it then? My eyes widen when I realize the item in question was originally mostly full. This meant there’s got to be more somewhere else. *ugh! NO!*

I check through the living room and it checks out, but as I head to the girl’s room I can already see offense #3. I got to the doorway and timidly looked around the corner to find this:

But… where is the lost item…

I scowl… the missing item isn’t here. That means there’s still more mess somewhere. I go to turn around and find Buddy but I hear a rattle behind the recliner.


I scowl even deeper as I step around the brown squiggle art on the carpet and I pull the recliner away from the wall to find Buddy and this:

Ground Zero

I was ready to scream but I just growled under my breath at the offender as he skipped past me to avoid a scolding. I stared at ground zero.

Maple syrup. It must have been half of the bottle in a giant, glistening, concentrated puddle. Un-believable.

Now, don’t forget that I was hosting a birthday party for Buddy in a few hours. Perfect. Just perfect. I ran to the hallway closet and pulled out the carpet cleaner ad prayed that it would be enough. It took over an hour and nearly half of the container of soap and many, many trips to the tub to re-fill the carpet cleaner, but it got done. I cleaned it all up. There were still a few lightly visible spots but besides that it was good.

The party went off without a hitch and we had a great time.

Then, Sunday came. Day two. Husband and I go to church separate because it’s just too much to try to manage the three kids every single week. (Irritating side story I need to vent about: One older man once puffed out his chest and told me, “Well, we took our three kids to church right away. We told them they had to behave and they had no choice.” His tone and tilt-of-nose said everything. ‘Back in my day we raised kids right. We didn’t coddle them and spoil them. We told them what’s up and they did it!’ I scowled in response and in my mind said some of the most offensive things I could think of. But, as that would have been rude, I simply replied, “Were your three kids all under two years old at the same time?” He just grumbled something most likely irate and self-satisfying to himself and left me alone after that. Bah.)

Anyway, so apparently while I was at church Husband came across another Maple syrup land mine in our bedroom. Buddy did it again. It was all cleaned up by the time I got home, but that’s besides the point. We were 1/3 of the way through a second bottle of syrup in two days. This was uncalled for!  Husband readily agreed as he growled to me about how, “This is way above our syrup budget this month!”

Apparently we have a specific budget for syrup. According to him, we have a budget for saltines, pretzels, milk, shampoo, ice cream ad any other product that we go through too quickly for his taste. I mean, saltines and pretzels are so crazy expensive right? *eyeroll*

So, now we come to today. Day 3:

I was upstairs in our guest room on the internet for about ten minutes. I realized it was deathly quiet downstairs, but all three kids were still awake.


Silence is never good in this house. Silence means they’ve all gotten into something new and extremely interesting. Something that, 90% of the time, they’re not supposed to get into.

I dashed down the stairs and came upon this:



Need I say more?

About an hour after this I had the kids clothes in the washing machine, the kids in the tub, the kitchen floor mopped and the carpet cleaned (where the girls left a syrup trail following me to the bathroom).


Oh, and I almost forgot to mention the grand finale…

After washing Buddy and his sisters I got them out of the tub and took the sisters in their room to get them in diapers and fresh clothes and feed them and put them down for their nap. In that time Buddy got a hold of Remmy’s dog shampoo. Apparently the bathroom wasn’t clean enough for Buddy, because he had taken Remmy’s dog shampoo and squirted it all over the tub, the floor and toilet, the walls, the sink  and the mirror. By some miracle he didn’t squirt it in our medicine cabinet or on the outer fabric shower curtain.

I made Buddy take a nap before I snapped. After I tucked him in with a scowl and threatened him to stay in bed or else, I headed to the bathroom to clean.


Oh. My. God.

6 thoughts on “Oh. My. God. [act 4]

    • Right?! I should have also mentioned the toe curling, ear piercing, throat burning scream that ripped through my body when I found the shampoo. Hence, nap time. I was at wits end before I found that, so I’m sure you can imagine how I felt afterwards. Nap time was more for his sake than mine… I didn’t want to have to explain to husband why Buddy was hog-tied in the middle of our living room when he got home from work. 😉

    • Haha, I’m slowly coming around to appreciate this story now that it’s been a couple of days. I’m thinking at this rate I’ll have an “Oh. My. God.” story at least once a month. I may as well make it a running series. 😛

  1. Pingback: An exhausting weekend of single-parenting | supermominthemaking

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