A few weeks ago I got out of the shower, opened the bathroom and almost tripped over one of my red high heels. I looked up at my husband who was in charge of our little grommet for the moment and said,
"What is this doing here?" He shrugged and motioned at Emma, what I said next wasn't nice or pretty, so I won't write it down, but I think you know what came out of my mouth.
Other things that I have almost tripped over:
2. Yarn - turned into an epic tangle that had to be cut off and destroyed.
3. Half chewed pretzels.
4. Half chewed cookies.
5. My keys.
6. Brown food slag encrusted sippy cups.
7. Refridgerator magnets.
10. Communion cups
11. And, of course, toys and books.
Our house has three floors, I have designated toys and books for each level. In my head. Right now we are in the basement and Emma just pulled out a dollhouse, I don't know where the dolls and furniture are. She has no one to blame but herself. Right now she is presently trying to jam a babydoll the size of a 6 lbs. newborn into the dollhouse that is the size of a box of pasta. She is failing miserably.
For Christmas we usually give boxes to each family of things that we have gathered throughout the year, like jam or teas. So in December I had the open boxes strewn about on our kitchen floor, a space that doubles as my 'studio.' At Christmas my older brother, Clint, was opening his gift, about halfway through he pulled out one of my nice filbert paintbrushes. Grinning he handed it back to me, and said,
"I don't think you wanted that in there, did you?" No, decidedly not.
Emma just tried to shove one of my Uggs into the dollhouse. Didn't work.
Today in the living room the bottom stair has becoming her staging station for partially eaten snacks, toys, some shopping bags, and a pink balloon that has become her constant companion the past few days.
I have tripped over a babydoll in the kitchen, found a bath toy in the back of the car, and my mother in law stepped on one of Emma's stacking cups in their bedroom, in the middle of the night. I feel like I spend all day picking up her toys and putting them back in the various baskets that we have scattered all over the house.
Watching my little tiny terror toddle around the house scattering things to and fro I have decided that I have to laugh, as I did today when she tried to shove a two foot tall sheepskin boot into her dollhouse, or else I will go insane. I develop a completely new definition of 'clean.'
Hey moms, what crazy things have you found in the 'wrong' place.