Saturday, 20 September 2008

Eggsperiments with mommy's blood pressure

(Note: I'm posting this for posterity, as it happened before I started the blog but I think it's a story that bears telling. I just posted it in commiseration with a poster on my baby boards, and well, someone liked it. So here it is.)


Eggs were my cross to bear.

Three dozen eggs smashed into the carpets of TWO ROOMS, with shells scattered clear from the kitchen to the OTHER END OF THE HOUSE.

All was quiet in The Mommy's household. Children were happily Barbie-ing in their room, baby was nestled snugly in mommy's womb, and I had to pee. So I did. When I got out, not three minutes later, I heard it. Crunch. I though I'd stepped on a beetle. I wish I'd stepped on a beetle. It was an eggshell. How odd for an eggshell to be at the door to the bathroom. And in front of the washing machine. And another in front of my bedroom door. And another, and another, and... OH. NO.

An open fridge door. Three egg cartons, open and empty on the floor in front of it. Eggshells. Everywhere.

No children.

No sound.


Bedroom one: mine. Clear.

Bedroom two: Rachel's. Clear.

Bedroom three: Lillians.


There were raw eggs EVERYWHERE. On toys. On clothes. On beds. In drawers. In doll beds. On tables. On the curtains. On both children. Big, gelatinous globs from the doorway through to kingdom come. I couldn't talk. I couldn't scream. I couldn't think of ANYTHING except for the fact that it was a bright sunny day, and if I didn't get this cleaned up soon I would have three dozen SCRAMBLED EGGS mashed into my LIFE. I went numb.

Honestly, I don't remember what happened next. I've blacked it out. I remember very calmly, very quietly putting them in Rachel's room and closing the door. I remember very calmly calling a friend and asking him to come watch them, because if I had to see their faces I would slit my own throat.

Then I cleaned.

God bless Bissel. I used my Little Green Machine to suck up all the egg-snot. I threw out EVERYTHING. The girls lost easily $1k of stuff that day. Later, I found an egg smeared into the carpet behind Rachel's door. It left a black mark that remains to this day.

I still can't see a raw egg without feeling a little panicky.

I'm pretty sure they're still grounded.

(Special thanks to Jenny for help with the title!)

1 comment:

Mike Styles said...

stupid kika, you should send this in to the province, they would love it; maybe you should become a writer eh?