Max and the couscous mishap

Do you ever just have those days?  You know the kind I'm talking about, where you wake up with a yucky feeling, and then everything goes downhill from there?  Well, I had one today, and Max was behind it all...

Now, I know that may surprise most of you, that I could ever think poorly of my dear, sweet, Max.  One might say he seems to always be in  my favor, but today, he fell down a few notches, and I held a grudge for at least 20 minutes.

Baby Ian was sad today.  He had a rough morning.  He got up too early, and was tired and cranky. I went up to M and Ms room to rock him.  He LOVES to rock (oh, have I mentioned that before?) I heard some ruckus going on downstairs, but turned a deaf ear to it all, as I rocked my sweet-smelling little man.  Oh, I could rock him all day!  There were some loud thumps, some squeals of excitement.  I assumed Max was throwing his wood blocks on the floor, naughty, but not a big enough deal to get me out of my chair.  A few minutes later, Molly, my little informer, comes running up the stairs and into her room.  "Maxi throwing the rice! It's all over the floor.  He naughty."  Oh, how we love her little furrowed brow tattling!  "Ok, Molly, thanks for telling me, go tell him that's a no-no, and Mommy will be right down."  So, she disappeared and came back a minute later.  "Maxi won't stop.  The rice is everywhere!"

Note:  I cleaned my floors this morning.  Of course.

Ian was in a deep enough sleep so I headed down to assess the damage.  I laid him in his bassinet.  I turned the corner into the kitchen and gasped.  There was Max, on the counter, hucking everything onto the floor.  The "rice" was actually couscous, and for anyone who's ever had to clean up couscous off of the floor, cooked or not, you know how much worse that is than rice.  Also, on the floor:  a can of milk (big chunk out of the hardwood from that), the can of Ovaltine, crackers, bread, and hot chocolate. And, the clencher...KNIVES.  I have a block of knives in my top cupboards, because having a knife block on the counter hasn't seemed to be a good idea with toddlers, and Max was chucking them onto the floor, one by one.  There were scratches and chunks of wood all over the floor where they landed.  Luckily, Molly was out of the room when this little hay day occurred.

So, to say the least, I lost it. I grabbed him off of the counter and without saying a word carried him up to his bed "closing" the door behind me.  I came back down and just sunk onto the floor trying to get my head together enough to decide what to do and how to go about cleaning up. Molly came up beside me and said, "I wanna sit by you.  I wuv you."  That made things a tiny bit better.  

So, I picked up the knives, put the canned goods back, and swept, vacuumed and mopped the floor, again.

I still have no idea what possessed my little Max to do such a thing.  I hope it was just a funky day for him, too, because he was pretty lucky that I didn't open up a can of you--know-what on him.  

After the mess was cleaned up and Max got a talking to, I told Jon that he could go ahead and get that vasectomy any day...