Crying Over Spilled Milk

Whoever coined the phrase "there's no use crying over spilled milk" said it before milk was $4.65 a gallon. (Isn't that the same price as gas?) Holy Cow! (You'd think cows really were holy, for how much we spend on their milk!)

Yesterday I opened the door to the fridge and a whole unopened gallon of milk plopped out, busting on the floor, all over my shoes, the floor, the cabinets, running under the fridge. Some brilliant child - they're all brilliant, really - had cleverly perched the milk on top of some other items in the door, just enough to get the door closed. Silly me - I opened the door. We used every dirty towell in the house to soak it up. Luckily, being summer, we have a plethora of dirty towells lying around. Of course we were just running out the door for Church!

Then last night, Luke dropped a whole huge cup of milk on the floor. Cup went down - milk went up. You get the picture.

Then this morning, Derek was carrying a full gallon of milk to the kitchen table when he tripped and half of the gallon of the milk spilled onto the floor as he watched. What is it with kids just watching stuff spill? Pick it up, will ya?

And literally, as I was typing this, Caleb, carrying the unspilled half of the milk, told he couldn't have another yogurt, got mad and, in his fit, dropped the milk. This time it didn't spill or break, just spouted out the top! Unbelievable!

That is nearly 2 gallons of milk spilled in less than 24 hours.

So I'm crying over spilled milk, and I feel perfectly justified in doing so.