There is a fix to everything
| Behold! The power of Shout! |
To me, messes can not be ignored. They irritatingly taunt me and the only remedy is to halt everything else and vigorously wipe that mess away. My response to messes are a source of humor in my family. I have earned the reputation of being completely unable to let a smear of dirt, a spray of dust or a streak of dingy residue got unnoticed or untouched.
If, for whatever reason, I am unable to remove the eyesore-things can get ugly.
Friday, I dealt with a few messes. Although I would like to say for the record it was not me this time who exhibited immense disapproval and dissatisfaction to the blots of blight. It was my nephew.
The end of summer vacation called for a sleepover for my niece and nephews at my house. They piled into my car with backpacks and a large garbage bag stuffed with sleeping bags, pillows and one large stuffed lobster, Swimmy.
Heading back to my house, I put together sandwiches for dinner and we drove to the park. Now, as I was planning this activity, I knew getting ice cream was going to have to fit somewhere in the itinerary. After all, what is the point of spending the night at a relative's house if there is no decadent treat thrown somewhere in the mix? Except when we were at the park my youngest nephew and niece spied a vendor selling snow cones and decided to have that instead. My oldest nephew, however, was set on ice cream. That is when the trouble started.
The large mound of flavored shaved ice sat in thin, flimsy, scalloped-shaped plastic bowls. The whole setup sent red flags. Climbing into the car to go to the ice cream parlor, I feared my youngest nephew would spill his dessert everywhere before reaching our destination. So I asked his older brother to hold it. Turns out no matter who held the cup, melted ice and cotton candy/root beer flavoring erupted from that plastic cup as if it were hot, angry globs of lava spurting out of a volcano. My oldest nephew was not pleased. His shorts were spotted with the stuff and the car seat looked like it bore evidence of a violent crime with red, sticky stains slashed across the upholstery. Connor was in a fit. He demanded his younger brother pay over the $20 his shorts cost. He would occasionally sip at the sweet pool that had become the dessert to try to minimize the damage and wretch at the taste.(Not that I blame him- root beer and cotton candy?) He said over and over again he was worried about the car and his shorts. In turn, I would say over and over again that it was no big deal. I would wash his shorts and wipe down the car seat. There is a fix to everything.
I was rather amazed at my cool, calm attitude. Maybe it is because I knew how Connor felt. I've resentfully sat in my own sticky, chaotic messes. Those moments seemed to drag on forever; with no remedy in sight. Truth is, there is always a solution and in this case, the solution came in the form of a bottle of Shout Spray n' Wash.
All the grimy evidence of the dessert were washed away. Never doubt that a solution can be found in a sticky situation. Or as I said to Connor the following morning, never doubt the power of Shout.
The large mound of flavored shaved ice sat in thin, flimsy, scalloped-shaped plastic bowls. The whole setup sent red flags. Climbing into the car to go to the ice cream parlor, I feared my youngest nephew would spill his dessert everywhere before reaching our destination. So I asked his older brother to hold it. Turns out no matter who held the cup, melted ice and cotton candy/root beer flavoring erupted from that plastic cup as if it were hot, angry globs of lava spurting out of a volcano. My oldest nephew was not pleased. His shorts were spotted with the stuff and the car seat looked like it bore evidence of a violent crime with red, sticky stains slashed across the upholstery. Connor was in a fit. He demanded his younger brother pay over the $20 his shorts cost. He would occasionally sip at the sweet pool that had become the dessert to try to minimize the damage and wretch at the taste.(Not that I blame him- root beer and cotton candy?) He said over and over again he was worried about the car and his shorts. In turn, I would say over and over again that it was no big deal. I would wash his shorts and wipe down the car seat. There is a fix to everything.
I was rather amazed at my cool, calm attitude. Maybe it is because I knew how Connor felt. I've resentfully sat in my own sticky, chaotic messes. Those moments seemed to drag on forever; with no remedy in sight. Truth is, there is always a solution and in this case, the solution came in the form of a bottle of Shout Spray n' Wash.
All the grimy evidence of the dessert were washed away. Never doubt that a solution can be found in a sticky situation. Or as I said to Connor the following morning, never doubt the power of Shout.
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