MyThreeDaughters

See that picture? Feel bad about saying this since I just snagged it off Google Images, but a glass of milk dropped onto a hardwood floor doesn’t look the least bit like that. Trust me, I just saw such a thing an hour or so ago.

The scene: Wife’s working. I’ve managed to put together a scrumptious meal of homemade mac and cheese and edamame. Rosebud refuses such (so would have I at two), I give her some yogurt and she eats. Then she takes her spoon, flicks yogurt on the floor, tosses down the spoon and her bowl, sending yogurt everywhere. She then reaches over, grabs Elizabeth’s half full glass of milk and….? That’s right fans, holds it there for half a second, looks me dead in the eye, and SPIKES THAT SUCKER on the hardwood floor. Milk went everywhere, like the bad guy’s brains in a gangster movie.

Everywhere. The milk and glass fragments, I’d estimate, covered about a 14-foot swath.

O.K., so I suppose you are done with dinner, eh, sweetheart?, is something that I did not say.

I think I looked kind of whooped. I just moved everybody away from the debris field and went to get half a roll of paper towels and the dust pan, to start with. I must’ve looked beat, because Fontaine felt sorry for me and helped out.

This spillage, being the coup the grace of dining room spillages today, merely capped an earlier glass of ginger ale and ice that had landed in the same spot two hours previous.

Good news for Wife is: She’ll arrive home to a freshly mopped kitchen and dining room. Or as Fontaine wrote her in a note: …At dinner Rosebud threw everything on the floor and broke a glass. Anyway, sleep well.