It is 31c today and no breeze, in a flurry of nappy-brained hysteria, I dropped everything to whizz to Sainsbury to the cash point . The cleaning lady is due and cash is lacking.
Half an hour later, with a heavy sleeping toddler on my shoulder I return to the house. Everything has melted. Which is unusual as we are more used to melt downs. Baby is laid in his cot. As the shopping is placed in its appropriate cupboard, I turn my attention to the "left outs".
The soured milk goes down the sink, the curled bread goes in the trash. The butter goes in the fridge, to solidify. Except that the lid is not on properly, my hand catches it as I place it in the top dairy shelf and it shoots heavenward. Puddles of molten butter and oil (so now I know how they make it "spreadable") plop to the kitchen floor, and a huge pancake sized blob amazingly has hit, and stuck to the ceiling!
Attempts at wiping it have caused the oil and goo to soak into the paint-work, so I have abandoned it to find its way with gravity back to the floor. Hopefully that will cause the least stain, as long as I don't forget, as the floor will be slippier *than slippy- perfect for practising "dancing on ice", I don't need the cleaner to sue me!!
* slippy/ slipy? spell check ain't happy with either!
My husband read this on his blackberry on his commute home. I did not know.... We met him at the station, and I took him straight upstairs to bath and tuck in tiny one. He accused me of "keeping him out of the kitchen for fear that he discovered the butter on the ceiling"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteHad I only been so cunning!
Infact the lovely cleaner had a "Product" that had removed most of the oily messiness.