I know from this simple exclamation from the mouth of my sweet daughter that something just spilled. From her statement you might gather that spills are a nonevent in our home — that we take these things in stride. I genuinely want my attitude to communicate this vibe: that spills and messes are a part of life — things you don't want to happen but things that don't need to ruin your day.
But let me assure you that sometimes, depending on the nature and magnitude of the mess, I can feel like my day is in fact being ruined. Quinoa granola in the cracks of the couch. Half-melted chocolate chips on the white, fluffy rug. Something mysterious on the bedding I just washed... freshly washed because there was something else mysterious on it yesterday.
The truth is, my toddler knows best. These are just things. Temporal things will continue to get dirty and require cleaning. Because 1) we are doing real life in this place, and 2) living life means that sometimes quinoa granola is consumed near a couch, and sometimes chocolate chips are consumed while dancing. The source of the mess is the source of the joy; they are in dizzying, dismantling union.
Sometimes life is like the messiest spill at the least desirable time. Sometimes it's near impossible to remove traces of the events that take place, and sometimes we'd like someone else to take responsibility or blame. But it is ooo-kay. Life comes with spills, and the less surprised we are by their occurrence, the more readily we can pick them up and move onto what matters. One speck of quinoa granola at a time.
P.S. Best quinoa granola ever. You've been warned about the couch.