The panic was total. In just a three weeks we would need to renovate, freshen the place up, fix everything we’ve ment to fix in the last 5 years, get a real estate agent and – mostly important – get it sold for the price we want.
Sokla? SOKLA?! My heart started racing, I could feel the sweat breaking my forehead and for a millisecond I thought I was gonna throw up. I turned around, toothbrush in one hand and kitchen spray in the other, not afraid to use either on The Child, if he was eating chocolate. He was. I became a volcano. Whilst cleaning the kitchen I had moved my easter egg from a high shelf to the kitchen table. Igge also had an eater egg, but he ate that when we celebrated early Easter last Saturday. So he saw mine and assumed it was up for grabs. While I was busy trying to clean the buttons on the stove, my own Mr. Gloop had gotten through one Cadbury egg, one chocolate bar and was currently working on one piece of liquorice fudge. When he eats candy, he stuffs as much as he can in his mouth at once. This is to make sure he gets as much as possible in there before an adult sees him and makes him spit it out. To be able to do it that way, he needs to use both hands to restrain the sweeties inside his mouth, and you can just guess how fresh his hands are after an action like that. My clean buttons on the stove suddenly seemed unnecessary and pathetic compared to the handprint in chocolate on the white TV bench or the half chewed liquorice fudge embedded in the new, white, fluffy sofa – cussion.