I guess that we’re a ranch family. What I mean is we like it on our salads, our nuggets, our fries and thanks to an old friend from Tampa, even our pizza. Finn recently discovered the stuff and likes to dip anything in it and suck the ranch off. He really has no interest in any food other than “noo noo’s” a.k.a. noodles, so the “dipper” doesn’t matter. I’ve often thought that he would just prefer a bowl of ranch with a spoon in lieu of the healthy choices I offer him daily. I’m pretty sure that I’m right.
I was in the laundry room for two minutes, trying to change a load while listening to Logan try to pair down her birthday party list in order to have it at Libby Lu (this will inevitably end up in its own post as I am not sure what the ethics are for birthday party invites – all I know is that a Libby Lu party for 12 is out of the question right now!) Anyway, all of a sudden Logan says, “Finn!” And then “Oh no! Mom, I don’t even want to tell you what he did!” I don’t know what I really thought as I poked my head around the corner; it just wasn’t what I saw.
During my few minutes with the laundry, Finn had managed to climb into the garbage can and retrieve one of the girl’s chicken nugget boxes which had one whole side filled with ranch. I have no idea how he did it, but he must have been spinning around because not only did he get it all over himself, but all over a good 6 square foot section of the kitchen floor. After that, he apparently thought it best to pop the open box on his face, where it still was, ranch dripping out from under it.
My first instinct was, well, not the appropriate one. On second thought, I grabbed my camera and captured a few shots. He was totally crying since I’m sure it didn’t feel good in his eyes. I wiped him clean and started in on the floor. Let me just say that I cleaned this same floor on my hands and knees only two hours earlier, using the very last of my ridiculously expensive, but totally worth it, hardwood floor cleaner. The ranch left a lovely and stinky white film on my recently, and momentarily spotless floor.
Sometimes you just want to scream.
Thank God it was naptime and I scooped Finn up, changed his ultra-smelly clothes and gave his face and hands a really good wash. The kicker is he apparently has some kind of skin allergy to ranch dressing. Everywhere it touched his skin, there was a raised pink welt. I quickly grabbed my camera to capture this as well, but realized that during the time I cleaned the floor, Finn had broken the lens on my camera rendering it useless. (Temporarily, I hope.)
What can I do? How can I even be angry? I am fighting a losing battle day-by-day, but hopefully winning in the long term. Anyway, I think I am cured of my own ranch addiction.
I was in the laundry room for two minutes, trying to change a load while listening to Logan try to pair down her birthday party list in order to have it at Libby Lu (this will inevitably end up in its own post as I am not sure what the ethics are for birthday party invites – all I know is that a Libby Lu party for 12 is out of the question right now!) Anyway, all of a sudden Logan says, “Finn!” And then “Oh no! Mom, I don’t even want to tell you what he did!” I don’t know what I really thought as I poked my head around the corner; it just wasn’t what I saw.
During my few minutes with the laundry, Finn had managed to climb into the garbage can and retrieve one of the girl’s chicken nugget boxes which had one whole side filled with ranch. I have no idea how he did it, but he must have been spinning around because not only did he get it all over himself, but all over a good 6 square foot section of the kitchen floor. After that, he apparently thought it best to pop the open box on his face, where it still was, ranch dripping out from under it.
My first instinct was, well, not the appropriate one. On second thought, I grabbed my camera and captured a few shots. He was totally crying since I’m sure it didn’t feel good in his eyes. I wiped him clean and started in on the floor. Let me just say that I cleaned this same floor on my hands and knees only two hours earlier, using the very last of my ridiculously expensive, but totally worth it, hardwood floor cleaner. The ranch left a lovely and stinky white film on my recently, and momentarily spotless floor.
Sometimes you just want to scream.
Thank God it was naptime and I scooped Finn up, changed his ultra-smelly clothes and gave his face and hands a really good wash. The kicker is he apparently has some kind of skin allergy to ranch dressing. Everywhere it touched his skin, there was a raised pink welt. I quickly grabbed my camera to capture this as well, but realized that during the time I cleaned the floor, Finn had broken the lens on my camera rendering it useless. (Temporarily, I hope.)
What can I do? How can I even be angry? I am fighting a losing battle day-by-day, but hopefully winning in the long term. Anyway, I think I am cured of my own ranch addiction.
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