As you know there are a few little luxuries that I won't compromise on... the deluxe 2 ply toilet paper, and Real Maple Syrup. I have never liked wiping with sandpaper and I can't stand the synthetic taste of fake syrup. I never knew the maple flavored syrups were bad for you until my bloggin mama friend Michele S with triplets plus one posted about the horrors. See, I was ahead of my time on this too. My family thought I was ritzy for boycotting corn syrup disguised as maple, I was just being health minded, SEE! So anywho... I only buy the best when it comes to Maple Syrup. I splurge and enjoy every drop in baking, smoothies and in my homemade salad dressings. YES, I buy it in bulk at Costco and the biggest jug I can fit inside the fridge costs about $21.79 and it lasts us about 3-4 months.
On Saturday I took time to dress the boys in red shirts and the girls in these cute heart sweaters- I thought I would take a nice photo to use for Valentines Day insertions with their handmade cards. I went upstairs to get myself dressed leaving the husband (as he signs his blog comments to me) in charge. I was only upstairs long enough to squeeze into some spanx and put my clothes on. Remember how I said the jug of Grade AA Maple Syrup lasts us 3-4 months? That is true unless Daddy decides to hack away at the thick ice on the driveway when he is supposed to be watching our children. While I appreciate his effort to multi-task supervising the children and tidy up the tundra just outside the garage, I can't understand how he thought it was safe to leave two, 3 year old boys alone in the kitchen- for a few minutes.
This is my beloved jug of maple syrup after the boys decided to pour it on the floor, draw figure eights and lick it. Nice images huh? I kept my cool and did not really blow a gasket. This is survival mode for me...if I allow myself to get pissed I would walk around mad all day everyday- instead I just roll with it and see the humor. Are you Laughing with me or at me now? As I removed the sticky fingers and baby wiped the clothes clean enough to wear, I kept saying. "Oh Boy, Daddy is in trouble!" I said it so much that little Charlotte started repeating it too. I think it sounds sweet when she says it, but me, not so much
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