This morning started rough, even by Monday standards. Part of this is due to a week long environmental shift necessitated by Stella’s science project. She has yet to be “scientist of the week” and there’s only a handful of weeks left. I know the Harpy will wait to the last possible minute to tell us, forcing us into putting some lame-ass project together due to time constraints (think volcano with baking soda and vinegar – YAWN), so we are getting a jump on it. We are comparing how different foods rot, captured by time-lapse video. We placed 8 different foods – a mix of fresh and processed – into soil sampling jars (once again, mommy’s nerd day job has perks) and will see what happens over the course of 7 days. We’ll end with a poster with pictures and such as well as a slick, super sexy YouTube video. Take that, Harpy.
Anyway (I promise there is a point), because of the experiment, we have a constant light source going in the living room area. This means that in the wee hours of the morning as my children start stirring, it’s difficult to move about in the living room in that ninja way that’s conducive to further sleep. Everyone’s all thrown off. The cats are also, except they’re thrown up. The damn things covered the living room throw rug with no fewer than 7 piles. It was like a mine field, with the vomit bombs perfectly camouflaged by brown paisley. Stella caught the first few. I managed to stifle her hollering and gagging long enough to wipe down her feet and clean up the offending piles before body slamming her onto the love seat and covering her up. She actually went back to sleep. Felix came along about 20 minutes later.
All I heard was screaming followed by “Dammit! Mama!” I did the only thing I could do: “Dagnabbit, Felix!” The classic redirect. He repeated it several times, obviously relishing the silliness of the word. A short while later, once the real lights were on, cartoons were playing, hot tea was in hand, and all the vomit cleared, I heard Felix becoming incensed at his Lego “gear machine” he was Preciousing around. Again, “Dammit!” I swooped in with “I think you mean dagnabbit, Felix.”
He ran around the house for the rest of the morning shouting dagnabbit and giggling. I hope it takes. I’d hate to get a behavior report for potty mouthing at this early stage.