On the day of the shower, when my world was all going to shit, while I was out and about, the kids decided to be helpful.
Mom and Bean shrugged it off.
So sweet that they want to help and surprise Mommy.
I know my kids better.
They wanted something.
But that's not the point.
The point is that they:
Cleaned the living room.
Vacuumed the dining room.
Cleaned to kitchen.
They washed a huge load of their laundry with half a bottle of bleach.
Fortunately Bean jumped in and fixed it as much as he could, but I have no idea how he did. I think the conversations went like this:
Oliver: Bean, is the bleach supposed to smell that strong?
Bean: Umm... Why?
Oliver: Well we did laundry and the bleach smell is really strong.
At which point, Bean leapt out of wherever he was sitting for damage control.
And I do have to say that I admire my husband's self-control, because no yelling whatsoever happened here. No children were injured and no anger was vented.
The death toll was: 4 of Oliver's school shirts, 1 of Tallulah's play skirts.
And there will be housecleaning for the rest of the week if they want new Webkins.