As a mom, I find myself cleaning up all kinds of bullshit messes. I often find myself wondering aloud how neither of my children seem to have managed to learn how to successfully eat yet. The amount of food and drink I find spilled on my floor on a daily basis is really pretty astonishing. But while this is common, I don’t usually think much of it, or at least not until something incredibly horrible and messy happens – something that penetrates my mom/mess-cleaner veneer.
Until Wednesday, if you had asked me what the worst nonbiological mess was that I had ever tackled, I would have readily said the red Kool-Aid mix I spilled all over the interior of my refrigerator. That was pretty horrible. I’m not going to lie. But the release that occurred on Wednesday surpassed the red Kool-Aid mix. It was a chocolate McDonald’s milkshake.
To set the stage, I had agreed to swing through the drive-through since Stella had had a wonderful day at camp. And in the name of honesty, I didn’t feel like cooking. Will and I are just over halfway done with our latest Whole 30, so it’s easy for us to eat “our food” while the kids eat tasty regular stuff. Fast forward to an hour later, and my kids were mostly done eating. Jackassery began to ensue. I heard an impact. Something had hit the floor. There was a secondary timbre to the sound, that of rupturing plastic. Sure enough, while engaging in jackassery, an elbow knocked a 2/3 full chocolate shake to the floor. Y’all, it exploded like an F’ing bomb. There was a lake of chocolate on the floor, plus associated spatter. Sticky rivulets of semi-frozen chocolate shrapnel ran down the cabinets, walls, pantry, and refrigerator. It was like Dexter visited a malt shop. It was awful.
I went mad monkey Mom and bellowed at them both to leave the kitchen, banishing them to Stella’s room (where the jackassery continued, lest you think me a big old meanie fun sponge). Of course, the whole thing wouldn’t have been so bad had I not spent the previous 15 minutes shrieking at them to “calm down use your inside voice get on your stools will you please finish eating before playing sit down stop rough-housing stop hitting each other sit down NOW keep your hands to yourselves I don’t care who kicked who first just sit down and eat for crying out loud.”
It made me pine for McDonalds’ good old days- those of the fried cherry pies, styrofoam containers, and the waxed paper cups they would put the shakes in instead of their designer wanna-be Starbucks Frappuccino cups; they may not have been as glamorously “McCafé” but they would have simply gone splat upon impact vs. exploding like an unpoked potato in a microwave.