Spilled Milk

Tonight as I was reflecting on my day, wiping the microscopic bugs off my counter in preparation to make dinner

(Picture of the bug, the staple is used as a size reference)

I found myself wondering what it would be like to live in town. Where the grass is greener and the bugs are fewer. At least that's how it is in my fantasies. What would it be like to live in a house of my own choosing? Preferably one that hasn't been lived in previously by four generations of farmers. A house that I wouldn't have to co-habitate with rats, mice, bugs or spiders. A house within walking distance of the mall or some major shopping center, that way when these doldrums strike as they sometimes do I would be a few short steps away from the endorphin releasing pastime that is shopping! Oh man, what would it be like?


These were my thoughts as I was preparing the potatoes to bake in the microwave (if they bake in the microwave can I really call them "baked" potatoes? There must be some other name for microwave baked potatoes).

And then my thoughts circled around and I asked myself what had I done today? Why did it feel like I had accomplished nothing.


I mean, we were having baked potatoes for dinner for goodness sake.....as a MAIN DISH!

But then I remembered all that I had done or rather, the few things of consequence that I accomplished that took so much of my day.

Cleaning the car for example, took three hours! Three hours! What possesses me? It seemed so simple at first. Vacuum the sand out of the car from the dirty feet after swimming at the lake the day before. Pretty easy right? Well then, what was that funky smell coming from the rug on the rear passenger side? Spilled milk? Why yes, yes it is. Mmmmmmm! Does anyone know what spilled milk smells like when it soaks into a rug in a hot car? Not a smell you would want to drive around with for hours at a time that's for sure! So after I vacuum the car, I move on to shampooing the carpets. Not just the spilled milk carpet because then the color of the other carpets wouldn't match. After the carpets are clean, roughly two hours later, Braden and I move on to washing the exterior. Why, you may ask am I washing my car by hand rather than taking it to a car wash to let them wash it for me for six dollars? Well, I am saving money, that's why. Something that takes a car wash technician (yes, they have been elevated to technician status in my book now) all of five minutes to do, takes me a full hour to do. BUT, I am saving money gall darn it!

Then later as I am dragging my tired self into the house Braden meets me at the door and tells me Santa is here! That perked me up just a little bit because I know Santa doesn't usually make house calls but once a year so I started to picture the things Santa might have brought me in June, like a million dollars or a house in town. Sadly, it wasn't to be. It wasn't REALLY Santa but his inflatable look alike that we keep in the storage room until the snow falls on the grass. Braden thought it would be a good idea to bring him inside, plug him in, and give mom a little bit of the Christmas Spirit. It worked and I didn't have the heart to tell Braden that Santa won't be coming for another six months

(you just try telling that adorable little boy no.)

And then, because Braden didn't feel like he had helped mom enough already today he decided to pour himself a glass of milk. Most of the gallon ended up in a sticky pile at his feet. He was quick to offer to clean it up (he's good at guessing when mom is about to the breaking point).

And he's good at teaching mom lessons. I learned (yet again) from my three year old that there's no sense crying over spilled milk, wishing for a house in town or resenting the small insects that live in my home.

The milk gets cleaned up, the house in town probably DOES have bugs

and I bet you, I just bet you, the grass isn't really greener over there anyway!