I spent the night in the bathroom after the 4th of July festivities. “Oh, Amber, did you party too hard for the 4th?” you may ask. No, I had the wretched luck of eating tainted fajitas.
So, that was kind of a bummer.
Buuuuut, I started feeling better, so I started to make pot roast. Usually the meat we buy is in vacuum sealed packages. This GIANT roast was not. I made this discovery when I opened the fridge and found POOLS of, uh, “red meat juice”EVERYWHERE! (it is grassfed organic beef, so no, it was not food coloring)
The inside of our fridge looked like the set of a horror movie. I did what any woman who spent her night yacking would do in this situation: I called my husband. Not because he could do anything (he is at the firestation dealing with actual emergencies), I just wanted to talk it through.
He didn’t answer, so I began the purging of ruined items from our fridge and cleaning, all the while gagging and shooing Connor away. Then, as I began washing out one of the crispers in the sink, I HEARD Connor have one of his disgusting diapers.
Of course, I left the water running in the kitchen.
When I finally came back to the kitchen after changing a truly memorable diaper my kitchen was flooded. Water and bubbles on the counter and the floor. Connor squealed “BUBBLES!!!!” and began the unhelpful task of making the mess bigger.
After I got it all cleaned up, Zeke wandered from his room where he had been reading and said, “What are we having for lunch?”
Cue song: “This is the stuff that drives me crazy….”