Look out - it's an avalanche!

I decided to write this post as I found myself shoving an armful of wet, sweet, sticky clothes, cushion covers and towels into the washing machine.

Don’t get excited, this is not some raunchy story about how James got me pregnant.

Let’s rewind to the 30 mins prior. James had cricket later in the day and knowing I’d be with Miss Munchkin for the whole arvo offered to give her the next feed. Brilliant. A little bit of time to pop down the street, grab some things (in that Mum  ‘I’m-just-popping-down-the-street’ way) and get him a coffee. As I left he was just sitting down with bottle in hand and baby in arm.

For anyone who knows me, ‘down the street’ is literally only two minutes away. So my maximum round trip could only be like 15 minutes. Even with a coffee order. I’ll pause here for a moment just to interject that James is an amazing father. One of those guys who was born to parent. He’s totally natural and not afraid of the pint sized human like some guys can be. I trust him implicitly with our precious person and have no doubt in his ability to parent her. Ok. Just needed to have that on the record.

So anyway, unbeknownst to me while I’m chatting to the barista about how Sunday Reed had a lover along with a husband and whether we knew of any other girls (besides our cherub) called Sunday, some kind of freak situation was unfolding back at the ranch.

As I victoriously walked through the door with coffee and juice I was greeted to a scene from Texas Chainsaw Massacre – but with milk instead of blood. There’s James standing there in shock, the bath has been set up in the middle of the room and is in post bathing state, and freshly washed baby poppet is lying naked and somewhat confused (but nonetheless amused) on the floor by the heater.

“Ummmm, what happened here?”

“The milk…it just exploded…she was drinking…and the top came off…you mustn’t have put it on properly…and it just went…EVERYWHERE. We’re ok though.”

“Thank god you’re ok.”

I’m sure I’ve heard of heaps of cases of death by milk avalanche. We’re lucky to still have our little girl. Heaven knows if she had of just had one ml extra in that bottle I might not be telling the same story. It’s funny though that out of the hundred or so bottles I’ve given her the top has never just flown off like a possessed spinning top? Pretty sure James was leaving out some of the finer details; like how he had decided to adjust the bottle top…and maybe didn’t put it back on correctly?

The thing with James is, he doesn’t just make a little bit of a mess. He manages to spread his handiwork across the spread of an entire room. It was like dodging those old WW2 landmines trying to pass the towels and pieces of baby clothing that were littering the floor.

I then spent the next 10 minutes preparing a new bottle (for a now impatient, starving child), emptying the bath, finding a new set of clothes (for bub AND dad) and removing the fabric war scene from the floor.

What a refreshing little outing that was! Just to get away and not have to do baby stuff for a minute! Thanks heaps for helping James. That was awesome. Really feel rejuvenated. You’re the best.

But seriously - I love you. It was just really funny. 



Pic: http://asprinklingofmagic.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/spilt-milk.jpg