first of all, I just want to warn you that I got a little carried away with the length of this post. my sincere apologies. but on the bright side, at least you have a good excuse to refill that coffee mug, right?
so, I was in the laundry room Monday morning, frantically folding the heap of clothes that rivaled Mt. Everest in size, when Rowan comes racing in, his eyes wide with horror. "mom, Finley did it!" he blurts out.
uh huh, sure. and lemme guess. I bet Scarlett was involved too. but surely not sweet, angelic Rowan! I hear he reeks of innocence!
before I could inquire "did what?" in toddles the "supposed" guilty party, mister Finley himself. just inside the doorway, he stops for a moment to lick his fingers and smack his lips. that's odd, I thought. I fed him breakfast half an hour ago and cleaned up whatever food was left on his highchair. so, what on earth was he eating? upon closer inspection, I noticed he was covered in a sticky substance. and it was this sticky substance that he appeared to be feasting on.
my first thought was that he had gotten into the syrup bottle. he did that one other time-- bit the cap open with his teeth and squirted it all over the pantry floor. yeah, that was a hoot! but after picking him up I realized that no, this wasn't syrup. actually, it was syrup's evil twin sister, honey. and there wasn't a square inch of him that was not slathered with the sticky goo.
I stood there paralyzed for a few moments before the reality of the situation sunk in. every inch of me wanted to scream. "nooo, please, NOOOOOOO! this can't be happening! why me, whyyyyy?" but, fortunately for everyone in a twenty mile radius, I refrained yelling my fool head off. it wouldn't have made the mess go away anyhow. instead, I bit my tongue, took a deep breath, and hurriedly made my way downstairs, my feet sticking to the floor in various places as I went.
stick. stick. stick stick stick. SHTICKKK.
deep breath in.
once downstairs, I cautiously peered into the kitchen and nearly passed out. evidently, there were no more deep breaths to be had.
after surveying the scene of the crime, I concluded that Finley had apparently pushed a chair from the dining room into the kitchen and had used said chair as a means to climb onto the counter. upon reaching his destination, he then got a hold of the cute, little honey jar I just bought from West Elm and proceeded to dump its entire contents.
oh my goodness, you guys. there was honey ev-er-y-where. it was smeared across the counter, it was all over my Keurig coffeemaker, it coated the canister that I store the K-cups in. oh, but that's not all! it coated the tile backsplash, the window sill, there were splatters on the rug in front of the sink. it was dripping down the cupboards for crying out loud. even my phone, which, stupid me to leave it sitting on the counter, was drenched in honey. (fortunately, I was able to wipe it off and phew, it still works. although, I noticed that the home button sticks a tad.)
hooo boy, talk about major sticky substance abuse! this could very well get Finley life in prison with no chance of parole!
okay well, maybe not. it did, however, get him a long soak in the bathtub.
had I been thinking clearly, I surely would've pulled out my camera and snapped a picture of the disaster. I mean, the honey mess would've made the perfect photo for this week's theme, "work of art." awe, so cute! evidently my anger was suppressing those types of warm, fuzzy thoughts from surfacing. so unfortunately, there is no photographic evidence darn it!
I do, however, have a picture of a pancake. oh, but this isn't your ordinary pancake, no. it's a silly face pancake!
I mean, you make "works of art" out of your food, don't you?
to view more creative works of art, please continue around our lovely little circle to Kendra's blog!
hope your weekend doesn't find you in a sticky situation!
PS. Rowan was innocent after all.