Crying Over Spilled Milk

I thought I had my house pretty well child-proofed until a little incident happened just recently.

There I was, nursing Baby Cal on the couch when Gwyn went into the kitchen, opened the fridge, pulled out a gallon of milk and walked it to the living room. As soon as I saw her I began to yell “Gwyn! Nnnn…” but it was too late.

It all happened in slow motion..

Right as the “Nnnnooooo!” was exiting my mouth, the gallon of milk went soaring across the living room, hitting the carpet like an A-bomb, exploding everywhere.

You know the saying, “There’s no use crying over spilled milk?”

I beg to differ.

I at first just stared at it in disbelief. “Milk jugs explode like that?!?!” “I can’t believe that just happened…” and “Holy ****” all crossed my mind before I moved.

I then quickly picked up the exploded milk jug and ran it to the sink, dribbling along the way. A couple of towels, water, carpet cleaner, and a lot of man power and the rest is history. I was so worried I’d have to get the carpet cleaned so our house didn’t smell like sour milk, but I somehow got it all out. I even had my mother-in-law come over and make sure there wasn’t a smell. Because… EEEW! What’s worse? Poop? That’s debatable. Not sure much else.

Gwyn then got a stern talking to.

The very next day I went out and picked up a refrigerator lock. Because getting into the fridge was now her favorite thing to do, no matter how much I asked/told her to stay out of there.

“Ha! That’s the last time THAT will happen, missy!” I thought.

Well, I broke the lock and had intentions of picking up another one but just hadn’t gotten to it yet.

Until last night, that is.

I, once again, was nursing when Gwyn asked for some milk. I said I’d be right there and then quickly realized what was probably happening, sprung up from the couch and mad-dashed it to the kitchen, and as soon as she saw me…. it took flight. From the edge of the kitchen flew another gallon onto the carpet in the dining area. But what could I do!? Toss Cal to the side to catch the flying milk-bomb? I just had to watch in horror.

This time the cap just popped off… but still! Milk all over the carpet!


An immediate time out for Gwyn and I was once again scrubbing. And an hour later I was back at home with a new lock installed on the fridge.

And I can’t help but laugh when she tries to open it now and gets frustrated.

Pff. Yeah! Take that!

Here’s to a week with no milk bombs! Happy Monday!

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