Sod’s Law
NS December 2nd, 2008
Yesterday I threw away a small mesh sieve because it’s too small for cooking and I don’t have anywhere to store it, nor a use for it. So after sitting in my daughter’s room under her cot for almost three months, out it went.
This evening, as I gave both my children a bath at the same time, by myself (which is the first time I’d done it), I found myself feeling all smug and like, hell yeah, I’m a kick-ass mom, look at me bathing the toddler while holding the baby and even managing to sneak in a few sentences from the newspaper every once in awhile. And then it happened. TNC stopped splashing and suddenly lay very still. Her face went a bit red and then I heard “Uh oh.” The pit in my stomach opened up and I said as I crept cautiously nearer, “What did you do?” The answer was floating before me.
In what screwed up universe does one throw away a sieve that they could find no use for and, until very recently, resided mere feet away from the bathroom, and then have a scooping emergency in which said sieve would’ve proved invaluable?
Two years and eight months of being a mother and the curveballs just keep on comin’. This job isn’t for weak-stomached wimps, that’s for sure.
This post is dedicated to my sister, Andrea, who will be gagging as she reads this and hoping that I don’t ask for her help at bathtime when she’s here visiting in two weeks.
