Yesterday I was putting a gallon ziploc bag full of hot potato soup in our freezer when it shifted, burst and spilled all over me, the freezer and the floor.
It was literally a hot mess.
(I was strangely pretty calm through this. Weirdo.)
After putting my arm under cold water, I began the task of trying to clean the potato soup from…everywhere.
It was in every crevice.
On every shelf.
On every food item.
It was in the door.
On the outside of the door.
In that part of the door that keeps your freezer nice and shut tight.
It was on some of our ice.
It was under the fridge.
It had splashed onto Alice’s exersaucer.
It was just…everywhere.
It took a long time to clean up.
It took paper towels and toothpicks and my bare hands to scoop it up.
And all the while I was doing this?
Tom was in charge of the commentary.
“Wow, Mom! You made a mess!”
“Yuck! Why is there soup on the floor?”
“Mom? Did you spill lots of coffee?”
“Mom? Why you do that?”
“You okay, Mommy? You made a mess.”
“Mommy? Clean up right now!”
“Mommy dropped soup everywhere.”
“Yuck, Mommy! Ewww.”
“Mom. Look at this mess! Terrible.”
And then my favorite…
“I see ice cream. Can I have ice cream?”
(Yes, he could and did.)
In other news, my freezer is incredibly clean and looks amazing.
Please come by and check it out.