Last night, Allie and Julia were playing a game with water. Those words don't usually strike trepidation into our hearts. They like to wash their collection of resin animal toys in the sink in the half bathroom, for example, and that's no problem. They like to play with their collection of Polly Pocket hot tub/pool accessories at the kitchen table (which is from Ikea) and that's no problem.
The problem last night was that Greg and I were chatting online with Dan and Kerry. Which means that we kept shushing the girls and asking if they could please play in another room than the one we were in. And they were playing with water, specifically containers of water in which they were washing Barbies and other little dolls. We paid them no attention whatsoever (fatal error).
This morning, I had an early meeting and Greg was getting the girls ready to leave the house. Right before they headed out, he realized that the dining room table had pools of water on it's surface. Yes, Marcia, the beautiful antique dining room table that you and your husband gave us had pools of water on the surface of the gorgeous wood. Pools that had been there since last night.
Fortunately, Greg saw the pools, dried off the table, and the only damage seems to be some lifting of the veneer at the center seam of the table. It could have been much worse. This does not mean that we are not going to kill our children later tonight.
We're taking them to tumbling class first. It's prepaid, after all.
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