I took the redeye home from Los Angeles this week so I could guarantee I’d be a grouchy jerk all weekend to my sons.
After a fantastic fifteen minutes of sleep, I awoke to Luca screaming down the hallway, “Alert! Alert! Huge mess in the kitchen! Caution! Huge mess in the kitchen!”
I stumbled into the room and discovered both Elijah and Luca were naked. They were both using their pajamas to mop up a massive pool of green liquid from the floor.
Eli looked up at me and said, “We are making Jell-O.” I nodded to them without a word and went back to bed.
A few hours later I went back to the kitchen. The Jell-O making had been officially abandoned, as well as the mess.
There were tiny ponds of colorful liquid all over the floor. As well as the countertop, which they shared with. every bowl we owned. That is not an exaggeration. Our entire inventory of bowls was accounted for. Each with a teaspoon or two of red, orange and lime liquid.
The scene looked like a meth lab making a vague attempt at “Breaking Bad’s” signature product. I also got the impression that this must be what a hoarder’s house must look like.
As I stepped into the kitchen, I felt the crunch of Jell-O crystals under my feet. A sensation I would grow to know very well over the course of the day. As these tiny sugary diamonds would find their way into every corner of hour house.
Instead of cleaning up, I took the boys to the big Christmas thing at Navy Pier. Where I had one of the most terrifying moments of my life.
But more on that later.