So yesterday I posted about how we were shuffling through the garage, with the leftovers of the move that were tossed in there (ah, the curse of the attached garage.) We made decent progress, but then got to the “Eff-it” phase, where you stop caring and you realize that you have boxes in your driveway that you’re going to have to just stack back neatly into the garage until the next warmish day.
I spent all this time going in and out of the house, keeping an ear out for Maura, checking up on her. She was happy, having snacks, watching shows on her crackTab, all was well.
Then we hit the “okay, stack boxes back against the wall” point, so I went back into the house to see what Maura was up to.
She decided to “make” hot chocolate.
Which meant spooning as much hot chocolate powder into her previously used mug. And on the counter. And maybe onto the floor. And on the crackTab. And down the stepstool, in all the grooves.
No, I didn’t get mad. This is just all part of Life with Maura. She gets into stuff. She thinks she’s able to do things. We encourage independence. Hot chocolate mix happens. I was just happy it was mostly dry powder everywhere.
Dry powder you can vacuum up.
I vacuumed it all up best I could, thinking I was doing well until I caught sight of the floor and realized there was a fine layer of hot chocolate powder pretty much covering the entire kitchen floor, a cabinet, and the counters. When I turned, I saw that when I sent Maura upstairs to wash her hands, she smudged chocolate all up the handrail, and wiped most of the chocolate onto a – of course – white towel. Later on, at evening Mass, I realized that the girl smelled like hot chocolate mix.
I vacuumed. I swept. I mopped. I wiped down. I bathed.
Four hours later, my house didn’t quite smell of hot chocolate anymore, and the dogs stopped sniffing every surface (which meant I didn’t have to shoo them away and wipe down the surface). My child also didn’t smell of chocolate anymore (though there are worse things to smell of, we all know that.)
This is just life with Maura. Sometimes, my floors are extra sticky. Sometimes, they are really clean.
Today, they might be a little of both.