All over it. Or not.

Image of milk spilling into a spoon on a black backgroundThere are days when you're all over it. And then there are those days when it's all over you. No prizes for guessing.

The day started, like most before it, with the obligatory cup of tea. With tea poured, one of the junior recipe testers and I went to read a book on the couch. Just before I sat down I managed to drop my cup.

It landed on the edge of the seat of the couch.

It bounced.

It spun.

When it came to its final resting place it was hard to tell where the largest puddle lay. I voted for the puddle in the hard-to-reach crevice between the seat and the back cushions. As I ran to get a towel and a mop I did wonder what a forensic team would determine from the scene. A teastain pattern analysis, encompassing all cushions on the couch, would have taken quite some doing.

I calmly put the incident behind me. For me, that was more impressive than the spatter patterns.

Later that morning I was in the kitchen with another junior. As is apt to happen with this particular junior, it wasn't long before he'd knocked a large glass of milk all over himself, the bench, the stool upon which he sat and the floor.

I handed him a towel for his person and the stool and started on the floor. As I mopped, a rather alarmed looking junior toppled off the apparently slippery stool and landed in the puddle of milk on the floor. The milkstain pattern now up the kitchen cupboards caused by the weight of a junior splatting into a puddle of milk was quite impressive.

We got through the day and I tried a new recipe for dinner. I'll admit I was a little heavy handed with the chilli, but even I hadn't expected it to be quite so spicy. One junior began to sweat and request tissues for a runny nose. Another demanded to know how much pepper went into this dinner. A third picked at the edges. All consumed several gallons of water apiece.

We finally packed all the juniors away to bed and sat back on the couch, now mostly dried to watch TV. Presently a junior appeared, looking a little dazed, and, it has to be said, a lot soggy around the girth. Juniors who drink gallons of water at dinner can have all sorts of strife thereaft. In this instance there was no need for any forensic analysis of any kind...