The grape mine

This morning, after I had finished hurrying DeepSpice off to work (late again - he didn't leave till about 9 am), I sat Thumper up at the table with her bowl of weetbix, opposite BallFiend who was still ever so slowly picking away at his bowl of weetbix. As is his way. Then after carefully taking stock of the situation... Thumper had just been to the toilet... there were no scissors in reach... the kids had water to drink... clothes laid out and ready to get dressed in after breakfast, etc., etc. So I felt safe to quickly and quietly sneak off to shower and dress.

But I hadn't reckoned on the bowl of grapes in the middle of the table being used to booby-trap the entire back room of our house.

After my shower, as I walked back down the hallway, I could hear peals of laughter from both children. I wasn't too concerned at this stage. Maybe just a tiny bit concerned. But mainly I was just glad they weren't fighting again.

Then as I entered the room, Thumper looked at me and said in an advisory tone, "Don't look under the fridge mum." When I asked her why, she refused to tell me. So I asked her if I should ask BallFiend why I shouldn't look under the fridge. Before she could say no, BallFiend piped up: "Thumper put grapes under the fridge."

I looked over at the now empty bowl on the table. The entire bowl of beautiful, fresh green grapes was gone, with just the stalks remaining. And indeed, there were quite a few grapes under the fridge. But that didn't account for all of them. However I just assumed Thumper had eaten the rest. (She's a complete glutton when it comes to grapes. She'll just keep eating them until they're all gone if no one stops her. I know. I had to change her pants after the last time she gorged herself on grapes and it wasn't pretty!)

So I set Thumper to work retrieving the grapes from under the fridge. Told BallFiend off for laughing and encouraging Thumper in her misdeeds. Then proceeded to try and get us all organised to go out. I hurried around collecting the various items that Thumper would need for the day (about 20 pairs of spare pants - toilet-training has not been going so well recently) and shoving them into her pink Hootabelle ("no, it's Twinkify!!" she insists) bag.

Then I feel it. Pop. Squelch. I looked under my foot and find the skin of a grape stuck to my shoe, a small puddle of grape juice on the ground. I look around the room and suddenly realise where the rest of the grapes have gone: spread out like a mine-field, all over the room.
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