Doosy

We live in a small house. I wonder why I even bother cleaning the floors sometimes, because with so many people walking the same path all day long, they're bound to be dirty within an hour of cleaning. And yesterday? Yesterday was a doosy. I guess that's how you spell doosy. I made pancakes for breakfast, and between Brook and me, a plate shattered on the floor. I rushed to sweep and vacuum the millions of glass pieces all over the floor so the kids could proceed with their school-prep routine. There's no way to avoid the path of destruction in a small house. The day was fairly mellow with only a few messes including a pen that leaked black ink all over my fingers while I was trying to sort out birthday money, Christmas money, and tithing for the kids, a 2-year-old with poop running down her legs, and John throwing up down my side. It was almost dinner at that point, which means almost bedtime, which means no more going out in public. So I didn't change my dirty clothes. Lilly and I decided on Hawaiian Haystacks for dinner. Suzee tried to join in the food preparing fun by climbing on the counter. Another terrible noise- a shattered bowl. This time, it landed a foot away from a sleeping John in his car seat, and pieces landed on and around him inside his seat. As well as on the piano, under both couches, under the table, on the kitchen floor, and around the baby play area. Dinner was put on hold because Jay was feeding a baby, the older girls (who usually help with dinner) were at basketball practice, and I got to sweep and vacuum again. Before I made it to bed, I spied more glass shards. Darn them. I laid in bed with Joseph, and asked him a very serious question, then he threw up all over the front of me. This time I had to change. It soaked through everything. I had thought the throwing up had slowed down, but today proved me wrong. Yesterday was a doosy. For real. I'm glad it's not like that every day.
But times like these make it all worth it.