You see, I was busy doing dishes and cleaning up the mess from our Gingerbread House experiment (which I will be posting as part of my Just Blog it! Holiday Style participation, which begins on December 13th and runs through Christmas with a post a day about the season's events), and the kids were in the family room playing together. It sounded like they were playing together nicely. Until the screech.
Now, I have to interject here that I'm not actually a yeller. I can be firm. And even loud. But I don't really yell at the kids very often. I mean, one of the kids has to be hurting me, or the other one, or about to get hurt to warrant my to really yell at them. But earlier this evening, their activities initially achieved a responsive shouting. And almost immediately after I began yelling at Casey for the turn of events, I noticed the humor in it and broke into laughter. Poor Casey. I'm not sure he knew how to respond. He just kept apologizing. But in retrospect, it was funnier than it was annoying.
Anyway, after Marcie screeched, I flew around the corner of the kitchen into the family room to find Marcie more or less like this:
In the photo, she's begun taking the sweatshirt and shirt off, which is why the right arm looks so funny.
As it turns out, Casey had been giving Marcie "rides" on a green blanket, pulling her up and down the hallway. He was unaware that she carried a cup of chocolate milk sans lid, and looked awfully surprised at the turn of events.
After I calmed down and stopped laughing, the kids enjoyed a nice, warm bath-- and no one was worse for the wear. And as mad as it made me at the time-- the mess of it all-- it really was funny. . .