Friday, May 18, 2012

Kitchen Surprise

This only looks like I lost my mind and allowed Angie in the kitchen. For a change, the destruction and mayhem had nothing to do with my life planner. I had actually taken the day off and we were on the balcony enjoying a warm glass of sunshine when the wall and our kitchen shelf got into a fight. The wall won.

I don't know who started it, but I wasn't that concerned with why the wall had bitch-smacked our kitchen supplies to the floor. I was more worried about who was going win the pleasure of cleaning up the mess. As I seriously contemplated cancelling my vacation day and driving into work, Angie popped her head around the corner.

'Simone's here - we'll be on the balcony.'

'Oh, sure - when I undig the coffee machine, I'll bring you a latte.'


'I was joking.'

'I wasn't.'

Angie recently had to sift through 30 years of muck to retrieve a tooth that klutzo Peter had dropped into the bathroom sink, so I shouldn't complain. The problem is that I am the king of doing things that I shouldn't. I'm also the duke of not doing things that I should, but I certainly didn't want to think about taxes on my day off. Instead, I rolled up my short sleeves and started to deconstruct our new-found culinary mosaic.

Glass went into the recycle bag, along with a few drops of my blood. This was despite Angie's wise-ass advice to not cut myself, but I think I've already covered my royal reaction to the unsolicited expectations of others. The flour container and the powder chocolate had smashed into each other and landed in a pile of olive oil, so I quickly shoveled this interesting texture into the biodegradable bin. Oddly enough, the three eggs left in the carton survived. If you can even call it that, since I plan to eat them tomorrow morning. Enjoy the reprieve.

After being forced to spring clean the kitchen, I picked up Tommy from kindergarten and took him for his first bike ride. Angie and I bought Tom a new bike a few days ago and he has been bugging the shit out of us (me) to take his knees out for a skinning. Fortunately (depending on your viewpoint) it has been absolute crap weather since then. With the sun shining and the kitchen cleaned, I had no other acceptable excuse.

As expected, he sucked big time, but his utter inability to pedal, steer or keep a steady balance for more than ten microseconds didn't manage to discourage him. Bravo.

I am metro enough to acknowledge that I am not as fit as the spring chicken I think I still am, but holy hell! Pushing a crappy bike driver around for an hour in the sun is hard work. Especially if you take David along on your driving lesson. He alone vibrates energy at a rate and frequency that only dogs hear. Particularly if you combine that with crash-test Tommy, whose lungs were not exactly thrilled with Disco Dave racing laps around him screaming 'I won again'.

At one point, I start to take mental bets on what part of my body would throw in the towel first. My knees and my back were not accustomed to supporting pint-sized wild ones in motion, but it was actually my liver who finally put its non-existent foot down.

'To hell with this, I'm going for a beer'.

I have been accused of having selective hearing at times, but today - my knees and back agreed wholeheartedly with my liver. They even laughed at the sweaty kid with the helmet, who was vocally unthrilled with my organ's premature end to the Tommy 500. Talk to the hand 'cause the liver ain't listening.

I strolled into the kitchen to quench my liver and felt the crunch of broken glass and the slipperiness of an oily floor. At this point, I would like to freely admit that I am complete crap at cleaning. I am, however, good at evaluating situations and making split-second decisions.

'We're gonna grill tonight!'

I escaped to the balcony and was once again confronted by what I now lovingly call 'The Buttmark'.

This mysterious butt-print has been a part of our family for several weeks. I don't know how it got there. I also don't know why it doesn't evaporate even when the sun shines bright all day. Honestly, though, I don't care. After eight years of herding ankle-biters, I don't question life's peculiar signs. No, I photograph them and let my three readers do the wondering. Happy speculating.

While you attempt to figure out the meaning of our cute little butt-print, I'll move on to dessert. Eating in general normally raises a fundamental dispute that Angie and I have had for years. See, Angie lives in the camp that waves the 'don't play with your food' flag. In addition to being hairy enough to choke a cat, I'm an avid food consumer with a penchant for creativity and a playful culinary flair that I use to impress my offspring. It doesn't take much.

Angie was not impressed, but at least the queen has been forewarned and is fully aware of the king's physical and mental handicap when it comes to actually giving a shit. Tommy loved it, by the way.
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: That I played with Tommy the cars.
David: That I said 'David ah-boom-boom!'
Tom: When I a big boy on my bike and no go boom down.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: That David was not so good to me - he did faces at me and other things.
David: Where Peter - he throw me on the floor when I funny faces making was.
Tom: When I go boom down and then I cry like this 'aaaahhhhh'.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: Sleep by Leo's.
David: I want that Yuki sleeps by me.
Tom: I want to go to my new bike.


  1. Betune (sp?) walls, no doubt. That's a bummer. Butt mark - Did someone drop 2 greasy hamburgers?

  2. Good thing no one was in the kitchen when the shelf fell....could of been a lot worse! The 'before' was a mess..any 'after' photos?

  3. The walls are sandstone and yes, it was a bummer. It's okay, I have masking tape and a creative mind. :-)

    As for the mess, the before and after look pretty much the same, just at different elevations.