Growing up, spills were not tolerated. My dad did not look kindly on accidents so if my sister or I spilled something we immediately flew into a tizzy of towels and napkins and spare clothing, mopping up the milk or juice or tea, hoping to escape the wrath of Dad, which, believe me, was way worse than anything Khan could have imagined.
As a result I vowed not to wig out over spills. My motto is, “We will not cry over accidental spills.” Now if you’re playing with Matchbox cars at the table and you knock over your milk we will have words but for pure accidents I do not react. I simply toss out some towels and we all help clean up. It’s one of my small Mom victories that I hope the kids will carry on to their families.
Yesterday, however, we had the biggest, baddest spill of my entire 15 year career as a Mom, a spill so gigantic it threatened my “No crying over accidents” to the core. One of my dear darlings accidentally dropped a gallon of milk out of the fridge and onto the floor. A full gallon. As I heard the glug-glug-glug of milk gushing out of the bottom of the plastic jug I stammered, “Oh, oh, oh!” and after the split-second initial shock, began lobbing dish towels at anything that moved, shouting, “Get it before it goes under the fridge!”
By the grace of God I managed to keep my cool, and even remembered to take a picture:
We didn’t catch the milk before it seeped under the refrigerator so I had to move the thing out and clean behind it. (Just a little tip for the day: don’t move your fridge out if you don’t need to. You will not believe how gross it is back there. Although I did find Rebecca’s ballet picture from 2006 and a list of quality adjectives that Amy was able to use in her English assignment so it wasn’t a total wash.)
It was just a spill. No broken bones, no loss of life, just spilled milk that only happened by accident. Certainly not worth crying over. Although I am seriously considering rearranging the fridge so the milk shelf is much lower…
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(My Dad has mellowed significantly. Becoming a grandparent caused him to re-evaluate how he reacted to stuff like spills and, to his credit, has apologized. No hard feelings, Dad!)
Milk is the WORST because it gets into and under things ... and sours! oh, and never let it get into your car upholstery. On hot days, an olfactory reminder of the event will appear, for years and years. Anyway you have my sympathy!
ReplyDeleteThe lingering stink was exactly what I was most concerned about... I hope we got it all. If not, we'll smell it shortly!
ReplyDeleteGood for you. My in-laws had a similar policy: if you spilled your milk during dinner, you had nothing else to drink for the rest of the evening. (Harsh.) So I'm trying to not repeat that one, as well. Happy to report they've mellowed, as well -- which just reinforces my theory that children *literally* make you crazy.
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