Marina woke up at 5:50, Eli at 6:20. Mark brought them downstairs around 7 and let me laze around in bed (Happy Mother's Day weekend, baby!). When I finally came to, it was 8:21. I felt kind of guilty about my lazy ways so I felt the need to be ultra-productive. I gathered all the laundry from upstairs (a very significant amount) and tossed it down the stairs. It turns out we are in a bit of a laundry crisis this week... the piles are growing and people are complaining about having no underwear.
With our breakfast of oatmeal, I dished out large servings of discipline. No one was safe from Super Mom.
Just now, I was trying to put a movie on for the kids (don't judge!) while they shouted out unhelpful (and unneeded) instructions. Mark was just beginning his Saturday mowing ritual. Moments later, the door opened (only a little because there was another mountain of laundry on the other side so the path was encumbered) and Mark popped his head in (this is especially delightful since he was wearing a pair of Eli's aviator sunglasses for eye protection). He says, "Uhhh, Lil." Yes? "I spilled gasoline in the garage, do you know how to clean it up?"
"Kitty Litter!" I was excited to impart my wisdom.
"Really? Do we have any left?" Dang. No. It was supposed to be on our Sam's list for last week but I forgot. I let him know I would think of something and sent him back out to the grass.
A quick google search confirmed my kitty litter remedy, but offered no alternatives. I briefly considered flour, but figured since it was a haz mat situation, I better not guess. I might just blow up our garage. Before I went to the basement, I tossed up a reminder that pee goes in the toilets not in our pants (there are still a pair of urinated shoes in the bathroom sink).
Down the stairs I went (barefooted), only to step on a vomited hair ball on the bottom step. I seethe inwardly and vow violence to Lorenzo's weak guts. I stepped onto the concrete floor of the utility room only to feel a grotesque crunch under my foot. I quickly reached over and switched the light on, only to discover that I have stepped on an enormous (and obviously stupid) spider. Because of my quick reaction, I didn't fully crush him, only a partial maiming. Naturally I started shrieking and my little hero Eli instantly appeared at the top of the stairs demanding an explanation. I yelled, "A spider!!" He told me he knew what to do and returned a minute later with a shoe. He felt a bit intimidated by the spider's size but courageously smashed him the rest of him for me. Then quickly he left to get back to his movie.
I shook off my double-repulsion to get down to the matter at hand. Find some cat litter. There were 5 cat litter containers stacked up and every one was empty. All the available litter was in a box, covered with poops and pees. Ugh. After sifting for a bit, I was able to fill a sour cream container with mostly clean litter, then I marched over the piles of laundry to the garage where I poured it on the drying gasoline. We're probably going to get a pack of alley cats taking turns sneaking into our garage to pee in the place that smells like gasoline and cat urine.
As I type, I'm sitting on the edge of a bench with a pile of still-warm laundry behind my back waiting to be folded (with Lorenzo lying on top of the pile). Marina is marching around in a dress with Eli's fake tattoo sleeves on, dragging a rubber lizard on a string. Eli is comatose watching Cars 2 and Mark is mowing the lawn in giant noise-cancelling ear phones and his 5-year-old son's sunglasses.
Lorenzo, continuing to make my life pleasant.
Urinated shoes.
Marina following my instructions for once.
Eli has found a comfortable position to watch his movie.
I really like us, especially on Saturdays.
No comments:
Post a Comment