How To Decide Which Home Improvement Project Comes First
Yesterday, we babysat for our friends. They have two children, one who was born in May and one who is three, but is severely disabled. So, it was going to be Vor and I v. three babies. I knew we were outnumbered, so I tried to prepare the battle ground.
I washed every dish I could find, and put away all dishes. The dishwasher was cleaned out, and everything put away. All toys were relocated to their proper locations, and all dog toys were removed from all baby toys and relocated to their proper locations. The activity mat was re-set up for the three year old; the swing was brought down from upstairs for the 5 month old, and I set out a blanket for Lis to play on. I filled up a shoebox with toys for Lis to sort through and dump; I placed the exersaucer in an optimal locations; I placed Lis’s runabout on the hardwood. The changing station was fortified with extra diapers and wipes; all potential harbors for the enemy (re: things that are not SUPPOSED to be toys) were removed; diaper creams lined up. Floors were swept, pack and plays were lined with soft blankets, beds were made for non-mobile children to sleep on.
I ventured into the bathroom and noticed the toilet paper was low. I ventured to supply closet, where diapers, papers towels, wipes, toilet paper, the vacuum cleaner, etc is kept. The toilet paper was on the bottom, under a huge box of diapers. I tugged. Stuck. I tugged some more. Still stuck, but the vacuum cleaner moved a bit.
With a final tug, I freed the toilet paper. The bag shot towards me and all 36 rolls of toilet paper exploded from the bag, no doubt as a result of my awesome muscles from my time at the gym. They bounced into the bedroom, into the laundry room, down the hallway, into the kitchen. Some unraveled. The vacuum cleaner tipped violently, which knocked the box of diapers over. They in turn spilled out all over the hall way, since of course, all the bags of diapers were open.
At this point, the dog fled upstairs.
As I flailed about, trying wildly to keep the diapers and the rolls of toilet paper from escaping, I bumped the top rack, where the wipes and the papers towels reside. Packages of Target wipes came raining down on me, hitting me with crinkly thuds, and rolls of paper towels bounced lightly off my head, arms, and shoulders. Hangers dislodged themselves from the rack and clattered down, intertwining as they went.
When it was all said and done, about 30 seconds had passed, and I had created 30 minutes of work for myself. I was standing in a sea of diapers and wipes, toilet paper and paper towels, hangers and a vacuum cleaner in my hand.
What I’m really trying to say is that the supply closet just moved up to the top of list for the plan to remodel areas of the house. I want organizers in there before I ever open it again.
Okay, fine, you can email me at graceandpressure [at] yahoo [dot] com. Don't all flood me with emails at once, you know. If you're emailing about craniosynostosis, put it in the subject, and I'll respond quicker. Deal? Deal.