Yesterday Tristan flooded my bathroom.
I walked into my bathroom to run water in the tub for Tristan and Tanner. As soon as I rounded the corner, I knew something wasn't right?
"What in the world?!? What...where? TRISTAN!!!!"
He had turned on the faucet and plugged the sink.
According to my mom, Tristan ran behind the bed and cowered, whispering, "I didn't mean to, Mommaw," while I frantically threw all the towels in the linen cabinet on the floor and called neighbors in search of a wet/dry vac.
Speaking of my mom, she came to the doorway a few times and snickered at me. I think she thoroughly enjoyed this whole scene.
Later as I was giving the kids a bath, Tristan very hesitantly asked me, "Are you mad, Mommy?"
"Yes, I am, as a matter of fact," said in a VERY curt tone.
Big blue eyes clouded with uncertainty, he asked, "When will you not be mad anymore?"
"I don't know yet, Tristan."
Tiny voice, HUGE blue eyes, "Will you still be mad tomorrow?"
Sigh. "Probably not"
Sunshine returns to his eyes, mischevious little grin with a smidge of relief appears, "Ok, I can deal with that."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
ugh i hate messes like that! today porter thought it would be funny to take a light bulb and throw it on the tile in the kitchen where it shattered into a zillion pieces. Its so hard to keep your cool! I kept telling him to stay out, that it would cut him and make him bleed. Then he asked if he would die if he bled. oh the drama.
Post a Comment