Woke up from very bizarre Slytherin dreams (I was hanging with a large number of House of Ill Faith crew, and in chatrooms in treehouses), where Az-the-Elder had been the anonymous writer of some new and brilliant prank fic, to a Soda Disaster. The Little Fayoumis had spilled his soda all over the floor, and the rest of the crowd had to leave Right Now or they'd be late.
Since I'd just woken up from the end of the dream where I was packing my lunch with frantic haste lest I be late, leaving with the roommates for work, I was already in the un-holiday spirit. I was happy to discover that while the "all over" was worst than my wildest fears, the "floor" was no problem. One 20oz cup of vanilla-flavored cola all over the kitchen linoleum. No worries, not with rags under the bathroom sink. Mommy dispatched the Little Fayoumis to his room to get dressed (to keep him out of the way) as she zoomed out the door; I went and got my former flannel nightgown, which absorbed 19.999 ounces of soda from the floor. I got a few more rags and wiped up most of the residual stickiness.
The Little Fayoumis, meanwhile, was berating himself for screwing up. "It's all my fault!" he said miserably.
"So what could you do next time?" I asked.
"Not drop it," he said.
"Maybe you could fill the cup not so full?" I asked.
"Mom filled it."
"Maybe you could hold on tighter?"
"I could not drop it!"
*sigh*
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