Our First "Vacation" Day

Or Mental Health Day or sick day (more mental illness than anything, though the kids do have colds). Whatever you want to call it, school just isn't happening today.

And here's why:

The morning started typically. We had breakfast, I nuked my coffee about fifteen times because it kept getting cold, St. Nick wanted to try tea, didn't like it, so it got dumped and he got coffee instead, I took a shower and the little ones decided a bath would be nice.

And then ...

Well, let me backtrack. As I was getting St. Nick's tea, I noticed the door under the sink open. Huh? Had I left it dangling? Maybe. I shrugged, closed it, went on with tea making. A few minutes later I had to run into another room, and when I came back the door was hanging open again. Fish or Pie throwing something in the trash, I assumed. Why else would it be open?

Now fast forward. Bath is drawn, Mud Pie is in the water, I'm in the midst of getting my own tea and I'm chatting with St. Nick about his friend's birthday the following day. Fish heads up to jump in the bath and asks if he can bring his Noah's Ark. Sure, sure, whatever. Just get in there so I can start school with your brother!

Splish, splash, the little two are taking a bath and I realize, Oh! The water! It's still on, and this tub fills up faster than our old house's tub, so I go up and wonder what the nice smell is. Did they already get into the soap?

Well, no. And yes.

The water is blue and flecked with dark navy things. And there's something icky, sort of slimy in the water. I pick one slimy blue glob up, stare at it a moment. Then it hits me.

The dishwasher soap! We'd had a coupon for Electrasol gel packs and there was a brand new, month's-worth box ... under the kitchen sink.

The open door, Fish and Pie's squirrelly eagerness to get in that water. It's all coming together as I scoop partially-dissolved gel packs out of the bath. I scoop the kids out too, drain, wash the tub, rinse the toys, draw a new bath and scrub the thick film of dishwasher soap off their little hides (which were in danger of being tanned at that point, I was so upset with them). I took their drippy little selves, wrapped in towels, down to the scene of the crime and told them to never, ever, EVER!!!!!! get into the cupboard again.

We started the day with 31 gel packs, and since not all would fit in the ark and some I found on the family room floor, we now have 12.

And school didn't happen. We made Autumn place mats out of last year's dried leaves and clear contact paper instead.

Could you imagine these two getting into such trouble? Yeah. Me too.

Could you imagine these two getting into such trouble? Yeah. Me too.