Murphy’s Law

We’re gettin’ a little restless here in the Northeast, needing some entertainment for our umpteenth blizzard today. This one’s at my expense. (You’re welcome.)

Murphy’s Law by allie taylor

Murphy’s Law says it all. You know what I’m talking about. (And I need to be careful — I know Murphys.) I don’t necessarily blame you Murphys, but it was just that kind of day. It’s only 2 p.m., and I’m not waiting any longer to write this tale. There are miles to go before I sleep, and who knows? The other shoe might drop. And if it does, it’ll just have to go in another post. No room for any more Murphy today. (No offense.)

I was chatting about this with a friend, following the calamities of early this morning. How for some odd reason, it’s funny to laugh at someone else’s calamity. I mean, not the real ones, just the ones that confound, frustrate, and drive us to insanity. The stuff that makes us consider getting committed before things get any worse. So go ahead, laugh. I am. It’s what makes the world go ’round.

So I woke up early today, to discover my post Glimpse of Sunshine: Part 2 didn’t publish on the site at 5 a.m. as scheduled. A little glitch, my fault, fixed that pretty quickly. Big kids headed out the door to school, time to work on the pile of breakfast dishes, make Charlie’s lunch, get him out the door. Sounds simple. But our ancient dishwasher quit a few weeks ago, so we’ve been eating on paper plates, gainfully employing live teenage dishwashers as needed. It worked out ok ’til we ran out of paper plates the other day. One of these days we’ll replace the dishwasher.

Meanwhile, Charlie and I are pulling valentines together for school, lunch packing etc. All of a sudden, I realize time has evaporated, Charlie’s bus will arrive a block away in just four minutes. We race him out the door, he makes it in time, phew. Because that would’ve complicated my morning even further. My heart rate returns to normal and I continue with the dishes. I don’t finish though, stop to empty and rearrange my Bible study bag, pack the i-pad and cord etc.

Hudson arrives in the kitchen, Curious George is over now. He needs a kleenex. Maybe two. I head to the bathroom, grab some. In the brief moments I’m gone, he grabs the full, open box of raisin bran left by the early crowd, dumps the entire contents on the floor. What a mess. The thing is, he did the exact same thing just four mornings ago, also a brand new box of raisin bran. This morning’s box was the replacement for Sunday’s dumped box. (Just sayin’.)

So he’s busy rooting out sugar covered raisins off the less than clean kitchen floor, stuffing them in his mouth. I’m trying to fend him off, scoop the raisin bran into the trash can. Second time around, I’ve got a four-step system going complete with brush, dustpan, trashcan and vacuum. I’m also thinking that a big pile of sugar covered raisins could create an unpleasant diaper down the road. So I’m scrambling and we’re fighting over those raisins.

We get through that fiasco. I return to the sink, wash a few more, smell an overpowering odor. A diaper change is already in order. I know my time is short, really need to get out of the house for Bible study. I leave the dishes, get the diapers and wipes, find Hudson drumming on a drum in the living room with his little hands. Little brown hands. Yes. “Oh be careful little hands where you go.” I know, TMI. What? You don’t want to hear about it? Can’t help that. Trust me, I wasn’t exactly jumping for joy either. But it’s the truth, what I had to deal with today. (Sorry if you’re eating breakfast.)

I march him off to the bathroom, find an old toothbrush in the drawer, scrub down little hands, fingers and fingernails. Hudson, he doesn’t care for it, but we get through. Then I rummage in laundry baskets to find new clothes, also necessary. Meanwhile the clock tick tick ticks.

I go out in the frigid, start the car. Wouldn’t you know, it’s the coldest, windiest morning of the winter, below zero. Driver’s door open, I balance on the running board, lean in to stash stuff in the passenger seat and crank her up. Too bad I left the windshield wipers on yesterday, because last night’s snow sweeps over me. Yeah, it really happened. All this morning. Happy Friday to me.

We only get to Bible study ten minutes late, turns out it’s my turn to lead today. Not that I didn’t know that already. We’re having brunch, it’s relaxed. It’s just that I reach in my bag for the study book to start, realize that in rearranging things prior to the cereal dump, I neglected to put the study book back inside the bag. So that’s just how the morning progressed.

A kind friend brings me a surprise: a 12-pack Lime Diet Coke. Things are lookin’ up. Told me she went to three stores to find it. Think subzero morning. Bless her. She’s remembering the Lime Coke that froze on my porch last week Baby It’s Cold Outside. So despite the craziness, I’m feeling the love with that 12-pack.

So we get home, Hudson has lunch, plays with toys. I head to the bathroom to bleach the sink and counter, throw out the nasty toothbrush. Glancing in the mirror, notice my shirt’s on backwards. No joke, honest to God, I led the Bible study all morning with my shirt on backwards. And you know what? I don’t even care. I leave it. (Probably have spinach in my teeth too.)

The last straw happens as we’re about to leave, me in my backwards shirt, to pick up the big kids from school. I find Hudson in the living room, sitting in a large puddle of milk. He’s somehow managed to separate the lid from his screw-on sippy cup. Never has it happened before, sure hope it doesn’t again. Time for a third outfit.

That’s all she wrote folks. Now I’m headed north, with my clean little guy and a can o’ sunshine. Wish me luck. Maybe the breakfast dishes’ll get done later. Maybe not. Maybe I’ll splurge on a stack of paper plates while I’m out.

Related post: Misery Loves Company