No Words

I have no words. 

Well, I have a few, but they’re not blog appropriate.  Instead, I’ll come up with a few sensored words (some more coherent than others), as I share with you the photographic evidence of the once tragic state of my house.


For real?



Holy heck, they must really hate me.

For the love of crud…..why? 

Why, why, why?!  (said in my best Nancy Kerrigan voice)

No really? 


What have I ever done to those children to warrant this sort of treatment?  I feed them lunch, make them cookies, take them to the pool in the summer.  I let them sleep over, make oragami in the living room (and pick up their scraps) and let them conduct colorful experiments in the kitchen.  I even let one of them live here and call me mom.  And THIS is the thanks I get?

How lucky am I?

In other news, after this atrocity was all cleaned up, I used my new carpet cleaner to get up chocolate and raw egg stains from the living room carpet.  When your kid says ‘Mom, a chocolate ‘accidentally exploded’ on the carpet,’ you’ll be very relieved that you bought yourself a carpet cleaner a few days ago.  As for the raw egg, well, I have no explanation.  Actually, I do, but you don’t want to know.  I don’t want to know.
Just know that Caroline and her friend, Bailey, made egg friends and poor Bob the Egg met his maker on my carpet.
On my carpet.


Those are the only word I have.

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