The Curse of the Molasses

The curse began long ago, right about the time Baby Bear became a “Waddler.” You know the type-a baby who is just learning to walk and has to fight past a diaper with each step. Waddlers are notorious for getting into things with no reasonable explanation as to how they did it.

One particular evening, I felt quite like a rock star multi-tasking mommy. Cooking, carefully balancing my time between talking to Baby Bear, checking the food, and watching the news. Until……

Until the curse decided to show it’s ugly face for the first time.

I turned around to see my precious red-headed Baby Bear standing in a puddle of Blood??? NO. Grease?? Surely not.

No, that thick mystery puddle of stickiness was MOLASSES!

Thankfully, that molasses had been contained in plastic and brought no harm to either me or Baby Bear.

Pride deflated, I cleaned up the mess and hoped no one would notice the floor was still a tad bit sticky.

Fast-forward 4 years, I’m now a professional Momma Bear, once again balancing my tasks so well (or so I thought)-talking on the phone, crafting, thinking about what I would make for dinner. And then I heard it, something fall followed by Baby Bear’s voice, “Uhhhhhhhhh.”

I walk over to the pantry expecting to find a can of soup on the floor. Instead, I find a jar or what was left of a jar of, You guessed it, MOLASSES! Only this time, the sticky puddle is full of glass.

Thankfully Tiny Bear was napping, and I had time to clean it up without anyone (except me) getting hurt.

Here’s to hoping Baby Bear’s reflexes improve before the curse strikes again……

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