About two weeks ago, the boys asked to get yogurt tubes for a snack. I was downstairs working at my computer, so I told them to just get them from the fridge. A minute later, Nevin came running down saying he “spilled” yogurt. I said, “Well, clean it up.” I went upstairs a few moments later to inspect his work. It was then that I saw yogurt not just on the floor, but also on the sofa, the wall, and the curtains. I freaked out and started wiping and blotting and blotting and wiping, all the while fuming and ranting about how in the world did they do this.
It started with Calvin tapping Nevin on the head with his yogurt tube. Then, not to be outdone, Nevin “tapped” Calvin harder, and his yogurt tube exploded everywhere.
About an hour after I was “finished” cleaning up the mess and the yelling had stopped and apologies and disciplines were passed out all around, I sat on the sofa and looked up. That’s when I saw two splatters of green yogurt. One was coming out from the old fashioned crystal chandalier. The other was a short distance away from the first. I called the boys. The fuming commenced again. A few more minutes passed; I took a deep breath; I calmed down.
I don’t plan to leave the splatters of green yogurt on the ceiling, but I am still contemplating the best way to get it off.