Another of our offspring chose to test us while quarantining. As I said earlier, I wasn't sure if we would all come out of this two week stretch unscathed.
Reg finished the last of a gallon of milk just as I was putting dinner on plates. Mini reminded him that whoever finishes the milk is expected to race down in the basement and retrieve the next gallon from the fridge down there.
Off Reg went.
Curly was on her stage in the basement warming up for a Zoom dancing class. This was one of those nights when I didn't start dinner early enough to accommodate a 6:00 dancing lesson, so Curly ate leftovers beforehand.
I heard Reg on the stairs as he was heading back up.
I heard Curly gasp and call out: REG!
I heard liquid. Lots of it. I heard some babbling dialogue.
Reg: OH . . NO! HELP. . . I CAN'T. WAIT . . . GOSHHHHH!
Curly: Reg MOVE! GOOOO!
|Note the crack BELOW THE HANDLE.|
Reg popped up from the stairwell with a broken gallon of milk. To the naked eye, he appeared to be holding a fountain OF MILK.
It was still gushing EVERYWHERE.
|Coach moments after we started the de-milking process.|
It reminded me of when I used to work at Burger King in high school and I was an 'opener.' I had to get there early and set everything up alongside my boss. One morning I was trying to fill the shake machine. The shake mix was in a bag, whose idea was that? I was supposed to hold the bag, remove the screw on lid, and dump the liquid into the machine. I failed to grasp the bag of mixture under the neck of the opening when I removed the lid. I stood there juggling a bag of shake mix and in no time flat I was WEARING said shake mix and wondering how this situation had unraveled so damn quickly. I had to go home and change my clothes before returning to work. Massively embarrassing.
Back to Reg and the mess that had me momentarily contemplating moving to a different house . . .
He tried to say he was 'just carrying it up the stairs.' When you have a bunch of siblings, it's hard to get away with that kind of shit.
Curly corrected him right off the bat: Reg, you were spinning it around your head and when you turned to go up the stairs you bumped it on the low part of the ceiling.
Defense rests, your witness.
I sometimes do a move in my workout classes that is called a HALO. It sounds to me like my 14-year-old son (who is NOT an angel) was performing a halo with a gallon of milk. Lugging it around his head in a tight circle. Focusing on building up his triceps and biceps and not bad for core strength either. I discourage anyone from doing this at home . . . with a gallon of 2%.
This is one of those times when I am grateful for the 35 white crappy towels that gradually littered our home during Lad's four high school swim and four high school water polo seasons. Those towels soaked up the milk.
Coach as he stomped on the white towels on the stairs: IT'S EVERYWHERE. ON ALL THE PICTURES, THE COUCH, THE CEILING. THESE STAIRS ARE SOOO WET.
Then we ate a very surly dinner.
After dinner Coach had to teach a class on Zoom. He asked me to figure something out. Well, the carpet cleaners weren't likely to come anytime soon since we had a positive covid kid. Reg and I spent some time blotting the carpet (did I mention our basement stairs are carpeted? Insert growl here) with soapy water. Followed by more white towel drying. I thought the bad milk smell was already forming. Now I wonder if I'm just nose-blind to it.
|It doesn't look bad, but it feels |
crunchy and then there's the smell.
Us: You don't want to know.
|My feet, Reg's arm. Me barking mad, implied.|
I had just started a load of towels before the milk flood, hours later I carried two MORE FULL LOADS OF milky towels up there.
In more of the Shenanigan folklore that I believe but I do NOT remember, Tank reminded Mini that she was in no position to tease Reg about this mishap.
Tank: Remember Mini, when you threw a gallon of milk at me and it exploded in the basement?
Mini: Yeah, but that was before Daddy fixed it up and it was just that gross tile and no carpet.
Wait, is she justifying throwing a gallon of milk at someone? I honestly don't remember this other milk gallon incident. Does this mean I will forget this one? Eventually maybe, but not anytime soon.
The worse mess you ever encountered? Did you move?