Speaking of paint...

This morning we had the usual frantic morning getting all four of us ready for school. Then added on top of the usual madness we had to make sure the house was ready for the painters who had said they would show up to begin work sometime between 8 a.m. and 9 a.m. to powerspray the house (so all windows we had opened during the night had to be closed, gate to backyard unlocked, access to electrical outlet in garage available...) Anyway, Simon and Thomas set off in their car around 8:15 to head to Thomas' school and Frederick and I stayed behind to wait about 15 more minutes before we had to leave to get Frederick to his school. While I was finishing up with the windows downstairs Frederick headed up to his room to play. A few minutes later I head a clunk and then that eery silence that always follows disasters. Then I heard Frederick slowly walk to the top of the stairs, talking very quietly to himself. I couldn't see him but yelled up that it was time for him to brush his teeth and then we needed to leave otherwise we'd be late. He then came around the turn in the stairs and held up his hands, which were pink up to their wrists and said (rather shamefacedly), "Paint." It took a split second to sink in, but when it did I broke out into a terrrible sweat. I ran up the stairs and, yes, all over the floor in front of Frederick's room, splashed onto his door and (brand new) bookcase was pink latex paint. It turns out that he was intending on squirreling away all the cans of paint we (I) had left in the upstairs bathroom (we are in the middle of painting and updating that room) and
had dropped one quart can (a brand new one, not yet opened...) onto the floor. The lid popped off and the rest is, as they say, history.

I made a few snap decisions, sacrificed towels I had never liked (actually, that isn't true; as I sit here I realize that one was a gift for Thomas from as friend when Thomas was first born--sniff!), rinsed Frederick off, wiped up the large puddle, and then set to work washing the rest out of the cracks between the floorboards. I then had to follow a faint pink trail down the stairs to where Frederick was (still a bit ashamed) waiting for me. I pulled the upstairs bathroom door shut tight but have no idea what Emily is going to think when she stumbles onto the remains of the disaster when she and Frederick get home from his school today. My back started spasming just as I finished up the last of it and I could barely straighten up to get our 5 bags and get out the door. I didn't even get a chance to check my own clothes to see if I had gotten paint on myself. I've just assumed all day that I haven't and am not going to check now to find out how wrong I have been. I got Frederick to in his classroom at 8:59, with 1 minute to spare.

I called Simon at work as I was heading in and after I told him everything he just had two questions: "WHICH towels did you use?" and "Did you take any pictures?"