Another "accident"

We got a package in the mail the other day that had copious amounts of Styrofoam packing peanuts. I threw them away and went about my business.

About an hour later I went into the living room to check on the kids and saw this:


Audrey dug the peanuts out of the trash and the kids had commenced with a snowstorm. Throwing the stupid things around wasn't enough, so they started breaking them apart. There was tiny bits of Styrofoam everywhere: floor, furniture, pants, shirts, hair...

So I had the kids pick up the big bits and got the vacuum out for the tiny ones. I let the kids use the hose attachment and they had a nice time. They took turns and shared and I moved stuff out of the way so they wouldn't suck anything up except Styrofoam.

Soon I heard the telltale "phwump" of something large being sucked up, though. I turned to see Caleb staring at me with the classic I-know-I-just-did-something-wrong-and-I'm-about-to-get-busted-big-time look. He said, "I accidentally sucked up a sock."

Grrr. I had moved stuff out of the way. I moved that sock well away from the Styrofoam, but he still managed to suck it up. No big deal. I figured I'd split open the vacuum bag and pull the sock out the next time I changed the bag.

But that plan was thwarted the next day.

Caleb was moving a small side table back into its place against a wall when we both heard a loud "pop" accompanied by the sound of breaking glass. He wasn't paying attention (he was actually watching TV while he was moving the table) and he kept shoving the table against what he thought was the wall, but was, in fact, a night light with an exposed light bulb. The bulb shattered.

So I hauled out the vacuum cleaner again. I didn't have a new bag to exchange for the sock-filled bag, so I had to suck up broken glass with the sock. No getting back that sock now, not with broken glass all over. Grr.

And it was all an accident. I hate that word when it's used by a 7-year-old.