Another Max Mess

I was sick with pneumonia; couldn't even get out of bed for 2 days. I finally had the sense to seek medical help and was diagnosed with "Walking Pneumonia". I had just started antibiotics when I awoke to this. "Kill me", I thought. No seriously, Kill me. Max had learned overnight how to push the bar stool over to the other side of the kitchen. And his cupboard of choice was my grain cupboard. He opened sacks of barley, oats and wheat and I am sure giggled delightfully as he poured them onto the floor watching each single grain bounce and dance a hundred times before standing still. Next, he moved onto the baking cupboard and found the powdered sugar. I imagined his smiling face as he stuck his chubby little fingers into the bag and threw fistfuls of it up into the air. Each powdered puff landing a little onto his lashes and nose. And AGAIN I was faced with the dilemma of screaming, crying or fetching my camera. That face. How I adore that face. I could look at it a hundred times a day and never tire of it. As I was snapping the shots Tim happened in on the mess and said to me, "Why are you taking pictures of this!?? This isn't cute! This isn't something we should celebrate! This isn't something for your blog!!" I kind of chucked and was on the verge of either laughing hysterically or sobbing. And I said, "You know, this isn't funny now. I know that. Boy do I know that. I have a fever of 102. I have been in bed for 2 days. I KNOW THIS ISN"T FUNNY! But I am desperately hoping that someday it will be. Maybe someday I will be able to look at ALL of these messes and laugh. I need to believe that some day all of this crap will be funny!!!!" A bit crazy I am sure I was, and I'm pretty sure I scared the poor guy because he slowly left the kitchen and let me be. Spencer must have seen he was losing his mother to the dark side too and he started to help. And as I finished the kitchen I moved to the basement where an entire bag of shredded wheat had been dumped/crushed on the couch and floor. Heaven help me.