Spilling stuff wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t have to immediately stop whatever it was I was doing and clean it up.
But spills have a tendency to ruin stuff – floors, books, clothing. So immediate cleanup is required.
Annoying and frustrating, spills are like unplanned mini-disasters that I often do to myself. Hurricane Honey strikes again!
I feel like yelling, “Really?! You had to happen right now?! I had plans, dammit.”
Nope, plans must be put on hold while I grab the paper towels, bath towels, or beach towels…really, whatever is closest and easiest to grab…and get to work mopping it all up. Often sponges are involved, and occasionally scrub brushes.
My doctor assures me that my body had to work overtime to compensate for my insane calcium levels prior to my hyperparathyroidectomy. Now, it is slowly trying to get back to normal, but it could take as long as six months before I (hopefully) stop spilling things. Drat!
So far, in the last few weeks, I’ve dumped a bottle of Listerine on the bathroom floor (don’t tell Handsome) and spilled coffee…not just once, not twice, but three times! Coffee is cheap, but my creamer is crazy expensive with the all-natural vanilla, cream, and plenty of sugar. In fact, it has so much sugar that I could probably eat a donut and ingest less sugar than I do with my morning creamer. It probably doesn’t help that I pour the creamer into the cup pre-coffee with no respect for sane measurements. Is that four tablespoons or 1/4 cup? It doesn’t matter. I just keep pouring.
Then, there is the red wine. Oh, yes, I spilled RED wine all over my WHITE couch. Dah! Screaming and cussing occurred for several minutes after that incident.
So far, in the last few weeks, I’ve dumped a bottle of Listerine, three cups of coffee, and a glass of red wine. Oh, yes, I spilled RED wine all over my WHITE couch. Dah! Screaming and cussing occurred for several minutes after that incident.
Handsome was thrilled. He hates my couch. Frequently, in the past, he talked gleefully about its destruction, suggesting that if we get a dog, the first trick he will teach it is to chew up my couch. I’ve explained numerous times that it is a curl-up couch that I love, and it had fit perfectly in my last tiny apartment. “But you can’t lay down on it!” he insists, “A couch you can’t lay down on is a terrible couch!”
So as the red liquid seeped into the upholstery, and I rushed for rags or anything to stop the spread of destruction, Handsome just watched in undisguised glee.
With red wine, I’ve learned that white wine doesn’t counteract the red, contrary to popular belief. It does nothing for a red wine stain. I know because I tried. It faded the red, so it looked less like the crime scene of a slasher movie, but then made the stain spread. My online research confirmed my experience. It turns out it is a well-known fact, according to a reliable, trusted source. La Crema. (Hey, who am I to disagree with the makers of one of my go-to Chardonnays).
I really don’t want to become a spill cleaner expert. But it appears some part of me must be thrilled with the opportunity to become Mrs. Clean because I keep spilling, particularly drinks.
The only worse thing than spilling is spilling comfort in a cup, whether it is caffeine, sugar, alcohol, or a mix of all the above. It is just wrong! And sad. It is wroad or srong…ok, creating new words (and the latest meme craze) isn’t my forte.
But that is ok because I hope, wish, dream that my days of spills are coming to an end.
Or at least reducing the number of occurrences within a one-week period.
Otherwise, we will run out of cleaner…and coffee creamer.