It's been a morning.
Maggie was out of food, as were the cats, so a run to the pet spa (yes, we buy our food at a doggie bakery and pet spa, roll your eyes if you must) was in order. I knew the dogs would be hungry but I didn't want to feed Kirby until I fed Maggie. This would prove to be a bad decision.
I crated Maggie and put the cats in the bathroom with their pan and left Kirby lose since I've done it before (3 hours yesterday) and he was fine. This would prove to be another bad decision.
We were gone 30 minutes, tops.
I got home and was in a rush to feed the dogs so I let Maggie out, collected doggie bowls, opened Maggie's food, scooped up Kirby's food, filled the bowls with a little bit of water and then cracked a can of wet food to mix a little in. Yes, they are spoiled. I set the dog bowls down and turned around. Then I gasped.
My huge hand-painted-by-me pasta bowl was in eleventybillion pieces on the floor.
The amazing part of this whole scenario is that somehow I didn't see my huge pasta bowl broken all over my kitchen floor. I guess I am so use to there being crap (ie, toys) all over my floors that it didn't even register, even when I stood at the sink, directly next to it. Or I am completely myopic. I'll let you be the judge.
So I cleaned up the glass. Bye-bye beautiful bowl.
Then suddenly it occurs to me that there was food in the bowl. I used it as a fruit, bread, whatever else is on my counter and needs containing bowl (when I make a replacement bowl I will not write the word Pasta in it so that I don't need to constantly feel conflicted as to whether my bowl is properly serving it's purpose in life). It contained pumpkin bread that James baked 2 days ago and chocholate chip cookies that I baked last night.
So I sent out a search party and it was quickly reported to me that there were cookie remains and ripped bags on the stairs.
Apparently Kirby likes fresh baked goods. Lesson learned. Boy gets to stay in his crate when we leave the house from now on.
So, the mess is cleaned up and I start emptying the dishwasher. In the process of emptying I was passing my awesome 2 cup Pyrex measuring cup from one hand to the other and I somehow missed. The cup flew accross the kitchen and smashed into the fridge and then to the floor.
Eleventybillion pieces of glass on the floor, take two.
Both the kids are all over it, unbelieveably impressed that we had two such incidents in less than an hours time. I tried to kick them out of the kitchen, they were barefoot because they had been outside in the sandbox. They were both carrying drinks I had poured right before this all happened. Ian was walking towards the livingroom with his cup and apparently he stepped on a small piece of something. He screams, lifts his foot and pours milk all over the dishwasher door, which is open, and contains all my clean silverware.
You know, sometimes I think my life is boring and then I realize this is the stuff that they put in comedy's to make the audience laugh, so maybe I have a really interesting life, maybe I even have a cool life!!
Or maybe I just have spilled milk on the clean silverware.