The Thrill of Victory. . .The Agony of Defeat

Friday night when Andy got home from work, he said he wanted to do something fun with the kids on Saturday since he didn’t have to work. He thought bowling would be a fun family activity. So, we took the kids to Fat Cats in Ogden. (Incidentally, I won the game and enjoyed the thrill of victory!) After that we went to El Matador and had lunch.

Baby bowling shoes?! It doesn't get any cuter than that!

When we got home, everyone got to work cleaning the house. Andy still had a few more things downstairs that he wanted to clean, but first he wanted to do some repair work outside on the swing set while it was somewhat nice outside. Meanwhile, I was upstairs cooking dinner. The kids played up there for a bit and then decided to go downstairs. I thought it was curious that they were being so quiet . . . that’s usually not a good sign. But (stupidly) I decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

When I went downstairs to tell them dinner was ready, I discovered that Andy had left the bottle of Windex out and the kids had decided to finish “cleaning.” There were wadded up paper towels and Kleenex all over the floor and an empty bottle of Windex. They sprayed the bar, their books, the side table and the toilet. Oh yeah, and our LCD TV. The ammonia in the Windex stripped the protective coating and discolored the plastic on the bottom of the screen. On the day before the Superbowl, no less.

While I know they didn’t intend to ruin anything, it is still extremely disheartening. And frustrating. Just a few weeks ago, Brayden somehow got into out bathroom cabinet (despite the child lock), got out the spray bottle with ammonia and sprayed it on the carpet in our closet and on my nice bath towel. Both are now permanently discolored. I had a long talk with him about using cleaners and how spraying those cleaners on the wrong thing can ruin it. Only Mommy and Daddy are allowed to use the cleaner. A few days ago we had the same discussion.

I guess we are all to blame for what happened to the TV, but it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. Andy is especially sick about it. I know it’s just stuff—stuff that can be replaced—but it is yet another item on an every growing list of expensive things that have been lost, flushed or damaged by the kids. (I still haven’t replaced my wedding ring.) Now I just feel defeated.