Puddles

This morning I knocked a pot of water onto the floor, stepped in it in my socked feet, harrumphed about it and cleared it up.

Later on, Little Fish managed to upend a bowl of water whilst fighting over the syringe for her feed.

Fast forwards a few hours, the washing machine has finished but I think the door seal is going, there's a little damp trickle seeping across the floor.

I did the washing up, turned rapidly, and sent a saucepan full of water across the floor.

Little Fish then made off with a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap and drizzled it gently around the playroom.

Marching into the sunroom to grab another towel I tripped over the cats' water bowl sending a small tidal wave across the room. I then got the hoover out, which dislodged the litter tray revealing a puddle of slightly less clean and distinctly secondhand water underneath.

Muttering unmentionables under my breath I reached the sitting room, picked up the laptop and sent Little Fish's painting water flying.

Later again, I picked up a cup of water to rinse out the suction pump, raced over to vent Mog, and poured the water down my trousers.

Suction, nebulizer and feed pump all managed to knot themselves together in a rather spectacularly plaited fashion. Sorry to disappoint you but I did manage to untangle this without spilling any water anywhere*, and managed moreover to get Mog into bed without discovering more puddles hiding in her wheelchair.

Two girls finally peacefully asleep (and Mog did not go down without a fight, lots of coughing and choking, much twitching, and a long hour of screaming), I sat down with the laptop again. Moving it slightly to the right I managed to catch the table legs with the cables. There was a tedious sense of inevitability about the pot of syringes and water for flushes which tumbled, in slow motion, to the ground.

I'm going to bed.
Tia

*no milk either, sorry.