"Unbelievable sight; indescribable feeeeeeling..."
I had Jasmine from Aladdin singing in my head when I walked into my kitchen yesterday to an explosion of flour and powdered sugar as my daughter and her friend were making cupcakes and frosting for their Baby Yoda birthday party.
Baby Yoda is actually a cute version of Yoda from Star Wars, if you like green skin and pointy ears.
The unbelievable sight was just how many surfaces were affected by the mess; the indescribable feeling was of not knowing quite where to start in the clean-up effort. I guess I did just describe the feeling, but the song fits in my head.
If I'd had Christmas music playing, the powdered sugar everywhere would have looked a little like a dusting of snow over every surface of my kitchen.
The kids started cleaning up, but a mess like that requires The Mom to be present.
Then the clean-up was halted by my breaking a glass accidentally. I shooed the girls out to go clean up some other wreck in the house while I put all the broken glass in a box.
Despite the enormous mess in my kitchen, I enjoy seeing the girls using their imaginations, making up an entire birthday party for a little green thing, complete with paper party hats they made, presents they wrapped (schtuff from Kara's room stood in for this), and balloon decorations remade from the real birthday party they both attended the day before.
The mom at that party let them both take home a balloon shaped as a 1. To ten-year-old girls, that is the perfect shape for a giraffe, and that's just how they painted those to look. Pretty clever, if you ask me.
They pulled me into the birthday party; we sang Happy Birthday and ate cupcakes that had slightly too much baking soda mixed in them. Who cares, though? Plus, they had forgotten the buttermilk in the batter, but I'm proud of them for making cake and frosting completely from scratch and by themselves.
They were by themselves because I just can't be present during the making of a mess. It's far easier on my psyche to face the disaster at the end than to see something get destroyed.
I suppose the really good moms get in there and train on how to clean up a mess as we go along, or how to keep flour and powdered sugar in a 4'-square area instead of covering an entire room. I'm just not able to do that yet. I gave verbal instructions from afar.
One last note: food coloring is the glitter of the kitchen. It was everywhere, staining every surface, included the dish towels that used to be good. Somewhere in Indiana, two little girls will be running around for a week with purple hands.
Cut to late Monday: the floor is still sticky. We need to mop again.