Saturday, January 17, 2009

The Human Stain

Before I had a baby, I was clean. My house was clean. My car was clean. Even my dogs were clean. Now that I have a baby, a "spitter" no less, my life is stained.
The other day before I ran out of the house, I did a quick buzz by the mirror then did a double take when I saw a huge Galapagos Island stain down the front of my shirt. So, I smelled the shirt to make it was clean. Sure enough it was. I was tagged. As I walk through my house, I have constant reminders of the little person living in my 3rd bedroom. There's a splotch of peas on the rug in the hallway. And over there by the laundry room is where the chicken and squash dinner made its home. The guest room comforter was the scene of the formula hit & run. I thought at the time it would be safe to hang out in there since it had been almost 3 hours since eating. I heard it only gets worse once they start to potty train. The only one this is good news for is Lulu, since she has occasionally been known to leave her mark on the rug. Now, we'll have to stand over the stain, CSI-like, trying to determine its composition to decide whether we should reprimand Lulu or call it cute because it came from our first-born. But the fact of the matter is I wouldn't change my stained life for anything.

1 comment:

Flossie said...

I feel your pain:) Anna's a huge spitter-upper. And, I'm constantly noticing stains that I didn't realize we had...dried milk everywhere.