It never ceases to amaze me how much a child can rampage through a room and leave it in instant ruins. My toddler (almost 2-years-old) loves to throw stuff. In fact, at 18-months-old we had our next-door neighbors at our front door because our little son, a baby still really, was pitching rocks so well that they were going over the 6 foot fence, into their backyard and hitting their guests. Guess they were having a party. He was just adding his own decorations.
This toddler doesn’t reserve his throwing skills for the outdoors. He loves to wreak as much havoc, if not more (the outdoors do tend to calm him) on the inside, particularly the living room. Recently he chose crayons as his missiles and I am still finding them in odd places such as the top of the carpeted cat tower and into the far corners of each room, already covered in dust from having brawled with dust bunnies upon landing.
Today it was markers. This was his double-threat because not only was he throwing them, he was uncapping them first. Brutal. One in particular, an orange one, landed on my computer chair and I didn’t figure this out until after I had sat on it for about 15 minutes.
Tonight I had to look for a piece of paper. An important piece really since it listed the next doctor appointment for one of my children and without it I had no clue when it was scheduled. I knew that the last time I had seen it was when I was on the couch. Oh boy.
The innards and undersides of the couches are areas I try to avoid as much as possible. They are scary places. Anything can lurk. Mostly though, the inhabitants of Scary Couchland are usually dirty socks, a multitude of crumbs, and some candy wrappers and maybe a couple of pencils or pens.
Well, tonight I was in for a treat. Isaac, that little impish toddler of mine had spilled soda on one of the cushions yesterday. I thought I had soaked it all up but apparently the spill had traveled. See, this is why I buy furniture second-hand. I love fine things but I hate to see fine things, especially those that I have paid for, be ravaged. Therefore we are second-hand chic around here. Well, not so much chic anymore.
So tonight as I searched under the couches (ewwwww….) and under the cushions, I came across a mush of graham cracker crumbs mixed with soda. Really gross. I feel badly that my guests have to sit on these cushions (you, however, have been warned).
I did find that piece of paper on the very last cushion I had left to look under. Oh how I wish it had been the first one I had tried. This will learn me.
I am now exhausted and ready for a nice hot shower to rinse the icky-ness from myself. One thing is for sure, when it comes to inheritances, the toddler gets the couches.
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