Twice in the last year, I've found an actual puddle. I don't even want to imagine how this happens - because the girl in me tells me that this means the boy in the incident is within inches of peeing on his own feet. And that thought makes me squirm.
Last night was one of those two nights.
I put Helen in the shower and then called "men of the house", to no avail.
So I stepped out into the dining room and called again for both men to meet me in the bathroom. When they arrived, I pointed to the puddle and mentioned that one of them appeared to have missed their target, and one of them needed to clean it up.
At this point, Helen called out from the shower "It wasn't me! I SIT!"
Connor and Ed looked at each other, spent a little time trying to blame the other, and then settled on a game of Rochambeau to determine who would clean. Connor threw rock which Ed covered with paper. Connor quickly called out "best two out of three". Trust me when I tell you this is just about as exciting as it gets at my house.
Tension was in the air. Connor threw scissors and Ed covered with rock. Connor's fate had been sealed.
Ed went to get the cleaner.
Connor balked. No way was he cleaning that puddle up.
Ed sprayed the cleaner.
They argued some more.
Finally, I left the room and the puddle was cleaned (I presume by Ed, but I'm not certain, I had left by that point). I did hear a lot of "well you have to carry the toilet paper" and "that is disgusting".
(My point, exactly!)
That evening, I told Ed I couldn't believe how long he and Connor had spent determining who would clean the puddle. Ed's response?
"That kid lost fair and square."
If things like this happen in your house as well, hop on over to the Honeywell Facebook page http://maid-in-america.pgtb.
*I have not been compensated for this post. The contest announcement landed in my inbox the morning of the above incident. Seemed like fate was telling me to share, even though it lessens the likelihood that I will win the above prize myself! Good luck, all.