Boys will be boys. That’s what I’ve been told, and it’s what my sons constantly prove to me, over and over again…
When I sent them to clean up the explosion… the mooshie pillow that had (naturally) spilled it’s guts when they were having a pillow fight with it… the pillow that belonged to their 16 year old sister.
That night when I walked into their room, I really wasn’t expecting to have stuff stuck to my feet. As the realization that I was walking on a very fine coat of styrofoam hit me, I also was hit by the fact that I hadn’t checked up on them that morning. MOMMA FAIL.
When D2 started vacuuming, the dust cup quickly filled up, and the vacuum became a styrofoam flinging machine! It was stuck all over EVERYTHING, including my bare legs when I walked into the room.
So the fail, the REALLY BIG FAIL, was all mine. I did not supervise the clean up process.I did not check on my sons. I did not verify that it had, in fact been cleaned up. We’ll be picking styrofoam out of… everything… for a very long time yet.