Saturday morning I had high hopes for the day. I was feeling pretty smug about how easy my week alone with the girls had been (Ben's been fishing in Colorado) and I hoped to get both girls down for a nap together, maybe let them play with bubbles on the back porch while I worked on my tan. YEAH. That SO didn't happen.
The morning started out fine. I surprised Betsy with her new bike. I had stayed up late the night before putting on the new training wheels after she had fallen asleep, (literally) adding the bells and whistles. I was hoping Saturday the girls would sleep late and I could make up for staying up until 1 am doing laundry and fixing up the bike. NOPE, at 5:45 am Betsy wondered in bed to cuddle with me. A few minutes later she told me she wanted a snack, she hopped out of bed and I had to follow her with my camera (or "cam-er" in Betsy speak) to catch the moment on film. She was excited, yet sleepy so the reaction was more muted than you would expect.
Ella slept in, Betsy and I snuggled...Ella woke up, I made a bottle and settled on the couch to feel Ella while Betsy played in the playroom and watched Barney. Mid bottle I hear the refrigerator door open and close quickly. I called Betsy's name but didn't hear from her. It's quiet for a couple minutes...(you see where this is going, don't you?)...I look to my left and see Betsy standing next to me. She's whining. She says "Uhhh... yucky!" and holds up sticky black hands. I said "Oh my goodness, Betsy what is that?!" I grab a hand, and I smell...the unmistakable odor of Hershey's Chocolate syrup.
My heart sinks. I think "OK, I'll bet she got it out of the fridge and squeezed it on her hands like lotion. She loves lotion." I peek in the kitchen and there is no sign of the sauce. I hold my breath and walk around the corner...to the playroom and..."Ohhhhhhhhhh, Betsy." She stands to my left, frozen. It seems sticky chocolate sauce on her hands renders it impossible to move or speak.
I did move. I walk in the playroom to find Betsy has made edible abstract art on the (beige) carpet with (the whole bottle of) chocolate sauce. It's smeared on the table that holds her TV, it is all over the toys, in the ball pit, and around the bottom of the basketball goal. One poor cabbage patch dolly (that she had named Ella, mind you) looked like the victim of a mugging, she got bonked on the back of her head and she passed out.
I started to clean it up, but I stopped myself, grabbed the iPhone and took a video first.
Oh Betsy. THANK YOU for offering to get a tissue to help clean it up. After her nap and a change of clothes Betsy gave me a little more explanation of what happened.
After the video I put Betsy in her bed and she fell right asleep. Thank goodness I didn't have to keep her out of the toys while I cleaned them. Everything was saved with the exception of a book of Crayola Color Wonders Markers and book that were already worn out. I emptied the room (moved all the toys to the living room) and called Stanley Steamer. The carpet looks BETTER now than it did before this incident.
I called in reinforcements (my mother and sister-in-law) and asked if they would keep Betsy for an hour or two while the carpet was cleaned. They graciously agreed and by the end of the day you would have never known what had happened!
The moral of the story is...there's no use crying over spilled chocolate.
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