A Doosie!

I haven't posted anything in a couple days. For one reason, I haven't booted up my laptop and for another, I feel like I need to have some completely witty or comical thing to write about. I'd like to go back and look for neat pictures or stories. I do a family journal, but am enjoying that this is more about me and not totally what my kids have been doing. It's been a fun journey to discover I DO have my own identity. I knew it was underneath all that other stuff somewhere!

So here is my post: Thursday night was a normal evening until around 5:00 p.m. I decided I needed to figure out what we were going to have for dinner. (I have a bad habit of that lately.) I needed spaghetti sauce, so I got out a recipe, added the tomato sauce, some herbs and spices and reached for the garlic in the fridge. For some reason, a gallon of milk was left half sitting on the very top shelf, so when I closed the refrigerator door, the gallon of milk fell from it's awkward perch and landed cati-wompuss on the bottom edge, the jug burst open and milk went everywhere! Now, at this point, I was somewhat pleased with myself. I only said a mild cuss word under my breath. I must admit, that I wish I hadn't done it at all, but I'm fairly pleased that it wasn't worse. I did growl at the situation while getting down on my hands and knees to start mopping and after coming in to see what the crash was about, my husband said, "Well, you handled it better than I would have!" He helped me grab rags and a bucket and I started mopping. Now, my sister recently told me she hates the microfiber cloths because hair sticks to them, and I hardly ever use mine, but tonight, they were awesome! They soaked up the milk and I was pleased with having a couple in my drawer. (My m-i-l gave me some.) Bret pulled the fridge out for me and I mopped and cleaned. Once that was all taken care of, I proceeded to make dinner. However; while getting the garlic bread out of the oven, my oven mitt was wet, the heat when right through it, I reacted and threw the cookie sheet onto the counter, it landed on some stuff, slid off and crashed onto the floor. Again, Bret came in to see what it was all about. At this point, I picked up the bread and we ate it anyway. Hey, I just mopped. After I got that picked up, my two-year-old daughter, while waiting for dinner, climbed up to the table, took a fork and scraped it across the top of the plate!!!! Nice! That was like the cool whip on top of the Sunday! I found myself thinking "I guess these moments are also the stuff life is made of."