On Tuesday, C was putting up dishes and accidentally removed the tray from the bottom of the oven where we keep our baking pans. So he let me know, and I went to put it back in. And noticed how dirty it was under my oven. I pull the tray to the side, and notice a VERY LARGE BUG under my stove. Not any regular bug, it was the length of my palm! It appeared dead, so I got brave and swept it out. Yep. Dead. But wait! Not a bug... 6 legged, but no, it's the crawdad that escaped from our fish tank over Easter break. Laughter brings the children to the kitchen. They think it's a scorpion. Yeah, kinda looks like one. Hmm... apparently I should clean out from under my stove more often. Threw the thing away, then went "EW EW EW!" and did the freak out dance. Now the kids think I'm really nuts. Apparently my big girl underwear only lasted so long.
Forward to Wednesday. My loving husband wakes me up with a kiss and says "You need to clean out the refrigerator when you get up." What? The fridge? Must have been a dream. I've been having some weird ones lately. Like my teeth crumbling and falling out. Ew. ANYWAY. Get up and... in the sink is an exploded soda can. Ugh. NOT a dream. Reluctantly, I open the fridge. Yep. Soda ALLL over. Close the fridge. Make coffee, eat some breakfast, finish a game of Monopoly with my daughter. OK, NOW tackle the fridge. Every shelf, every wall, even behind the light, has been "blessed" by this can of soda.
While I am doing this, my 9 y/o son is making boiled eggs. It's his first time, and I am talking him through it. Well, one of the things I do is add a little oil so it doesn't boil over. I didn't know he had almost overflowed the pot already with water. He added the oil, way too much oil, and it spilled over. Onto the eye (burner). Which then caught fire. And went back out. Whew. Get it off the eye. Pour out some water/oil in the sink. Change eyes. Finish the eggs. Whew.
Decided that I should probably mow the yard. (Never mind the fact that I'm apparently mildly to moderately allergic to grass.) But it's been hot lately. I should check the temperature. It IS 2:00 PM. Figured if it was less than 90 degrees F, then I would mow. Check the temp gauge. 89.4... What? Ugh. God sure has a sense of humor. Check the computer. Uh oh. Storms moving in. Can't mow after all. Should have time to plant my flowers though, before it rains. Plant the flowers, and come in as the sky gets really gray... Go back to my computer. Get a text from hubby. He says to mow. I say "storms moving in". His reply? "Hurry." lol. Guess I'll mow anyway. Go out into the blazing sunshine... blazing sunshine? really? And mow. the whole yard. no rain. Stupid blower doesn't want to work (yeah, I don't remember the steps.) Push the mower into the garage. Sit down and relax a few.
