Its Monday morning. I’m sitting here in my home office trying NOT to choke to death on clouds of flea-spray fumes wafting throughout my entire house.
“Why,” you might ask, “would you have clouds of flea-spray fumes wafting throughout the entire house?”
She LOVES to help me.
She LOVES to clean.
So while I turned my back to her for 15 minutes to check my email (which I KNOW from experience is something I should never, ever do),
She took it upon herself to scoot her beloved little white stool (a shower gift from my friend Julie R…..thanks, Julie….this stool has been the accomplice in lots of Baby A’s trouble-making, and has been pushed many a mile around our house)….
….up to the laundry room counter….
and get the flea spray. That I thought was safely out of reach.
She proceeded to soak a few laundry items that I had laid out to treat for stains.
Because she loves to help and has seen me spray the laundry for stains. She was only doing what she had seen me do….only she used the flea spray instead of oh, say, Zout or Spray-n-wash.
She cleaned the laundry room floor with flea spray. The lineoleum now glistens with the greasy sheen of flea spray.
She sprayed my mom’s antique barley twist table. Don’t tell mom, anyone.
She sprayed my bulletin board.
She sprayed a big puddle on my grandmother’s dining room table. And made the finish crackle. Only on the leaf, though, as if that’s any consolation.
She took the finish off my painted black work table in my home office.
Which is how I finally caught her.
As I was sitting here, with my back to her, checking my email…..I just so happened to hear the sound of a squirt bottle, squirting.
I asked, “What are you doing, Baby A?”
“I cleanin’, Momma!”
And boy was she……
Cleaned the finish RIGHT OFF my hairbow table.
So now I’m making plans to go to the zoo…..the mall? …. ANYWHERE?….just to get this kid out of the house and keep her little hands occupied and entertained.
You know what they say about Idle Hands.