Madre's Missives

Trick or Treat?

I even hated going trick or treating when I was a kid.  I'm an equal opportunity Halloween hater  Growing up in Minnesota, it was usually pretty cold by the last night in October.  Some people may recall the great Halloween blizzard of '91.  I missed that, it was my freshman year so I got to hear about it from the news.  But that just gives you an idea of what the potential weather was like for trick or treating.  So even if I did put together a great costume to wear, it'd inevitably be covered up by a winter jacket, hat, and mittens.  It wasn't worth it to go out in the cold just to get some free candy.

So at first I thought it was kinda sweet - I woke up this morning and started moving around and Isaac came upstairs to check on me.  Once again, he got up before me and didn't wake me up.  (I've actually caught him "helping" me sleep in longer by turning off my alarm for me.  Isn't he thoughtful?)  Only this morning he got a very worried look on his face when he saw I was awake, and ran down the hall yelling, "I'll clean it up, I'll clean it up!"

Not a good sign.

I figured I'd give him a chance to clean up whatever "it" was (knowing that Isaac's version of "cleaning up" has a way of making a true mess worse) before going downstairs to assess the damage personally. 

LAST time this sort of thing happened, I discovered an empty bottle of bronze-colored craft paint (that I didn't even know I HAD), an empty bottle of Windex, and an empty honey bear on my living room floor...and a "beautiful" art project on my front door, the vaccuum cleaner, my entryway floor, and part of a wall.  And that's not counting the paint drips across the carpet, fingerprints on walls, or the dried paint I later found on the cat and got to cut off his fur (it eventually wore off his nose and pads).

It couldn't be that bad...right?

Scanning the room as I come down the stairs, it looks ok...door's still white (mostly anyway - that needs to be repainted), the carpet has the usual stains, table is still somewhat cleaned off...ohh...the couch.  Getting a couch that had cushions with removable and washable upholstery was probably the smartest thing I did when I moved into our new house.  Isaac had been playing with his 'struction machines.  I guess imaginary dirt wasn't good enough for him this morning.  So he found himself some "snow" for them to dig and drive around in.

The rest of us would call it sugar.

It  wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't tried to clean it up.  There was a point that it could've been handled with just the vaccuum.  But I've learned my lesson there.  Apparently, in Isaac's mind, the way you clean up anything and everything is with Windex, and spraying just isn't fast enough.  The top must be unscrewed and the magic blue juice poured out.  'Nuff said.

Doing what I should've done last time with the paint incident, I quickly sent him to his room.  And then I took pictures first, yelled second.  By the time I was done with the pictures and initial cleanup, I didn't much feel like yelling anymore.  Isaac came downstairs, dressed (well, pants on backwards and shoes on the wrong feet, but a valiant effort nonetheless) and before I laid into him, apologized for dumping out sugar on the couch.  Good.  No lying, so no spanking.  I forgave him and told him that when he got home from daycare, he'd have to spend the evening in his room and not go trick-or-treating.

It's hard to get mad when the Lord provides me with a way out of going trick-or-treating.

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Dangers of Trick-or-Treating