“Assident”

Sometimes you’ve just got to force yourself to laugh, when the only other option is to cry.

Yesterday Nate was away on some church related duties, leaving me home with the kids.  I needed to tidy up the house for some guests we had coming over pretty soon after Nate got home.  But Mackay was hungry.  And come to think of it, I was hungry, too.  Looking through the cupboards and fridge, not much popped out to me.  Mackay suggested pancakes.  Random, but sounded good.  So with one hand, holding Zack in the other, I helped Mackay mix the batter and make two pancakes.  One for myself, and one for her.  All one handed I set the table and got everything ready for us to enjoy our afternoon snack.  The dishwasher was running, and we were down to one large glass, so I filled the cup completely with milk for us to share.  I was even able to set Zack down while we began to eat.  Which is quite a blessing around this house.  About a fourth of the way through my pancake, Mackay passed me the milk.  Pushed it to me, actually.  And it tipped.  The large, completely full glass of milk went down.  All over my shirt, my skirt, the table, the floor, and my pancake.

I closed my eyes to think.  *It had taken a lot of energy to get everything ready for this snack.  And I had just sat down to enjoy it.  And the always frugal side of me thought about how much milk was just wasted.  What a mess.*

I opened my eyes to find a puddle of milk in my skirt.  And my pancake swimming on the plate.  I just sat there.  Trying to decide how to respond.  I let out a little chuckle.  Completely forced.  But it was either that or a not-so-friendly option.  When I felt the milk seeping through the skirt onto my legs, I stood up, letting the rest of the puddle just spill to the floor.  I took my clothes off, got new ones on, and grabbed a rag to start the clean up process.  As I was filling rag after rag with wasted milk, Mackay asked if she could get another glass.  Um, no.  But I said, “Mackay, YOU just spilled all this milk all over me, the ground, the table, and my pancake.  And now I have to clean up YOUR mess.  So no, don’t ask me for more milk.”  She was quiet.  I may not have answered as perfectly as I could have.  But I thought it was pretty good considering how frustrated I felt.

After a few more minutes she asked, “Mom, can I apologize?”  Part of me wanted to say no.  I was still upset and didn’t want to forgive her.  But of course I said yes.  She said, “I am sorry for spilling the milk all over.  It was an ‘assident’.  I was trying to keep the milk inside the glass.  I didn’t mean to.”  The word ‘assident’ made me smile a little bit, and I couldn’t help but forgive her.  Of course she didn’t mean to.  I think parents in general think children mean to make all those messes, because they seem to happen so frequently.  But in reality, they are still learning about the world around them, the laws of physics, and how to use their bodies.  How could I be mad at that?  And then she added, “And if you don’t want to get me some milk…” in my mind I completed the sentence ‘that’s okay’, thinking how cute that would sound.  But instead she said, “…you can get me some juice.”  That’s it.  I laughed.