Not Exactly Spilled Milk

It was the last week of school. That useless craptastic time when the intensity of "not wanting to be heredness" is equal among student and teacher alike. Isaac had a pretty tough year and with first grade coming to a close he was frequently over tired and over excited.

It was about 7:45 in the morning and Isaac was at the table having his cereal while the rest of us laid in bed a few moments longer. Suddenly there was in quick succession an urgent knock on our bedroom door and slurred incoherent babble. I didn't understand anything except "milk." So, I turned to look at him. His face was red and tear stained. It was clear something had gone wrong in the standard Peanut Butter Puffs Cereal consumption procedure, but I'd be damned if I could understand what.

After two more emotional attempts to explain from which I only gleaned that it had something to do with milk I woke up Mike. I guessed maybe we were out of milk, but that wasn't it. I thought maybe he spilled some milk, but that was also wrong. The more he had to repeat his story the more agitated he got, which made it even harder to understand him.

When everything was revealed, this is what so unnerved our resourceful 7yr old: Apparently he poured his cereal into the bowl just fine, but he overdid the milk. He was really worried about the milk overage so he (this is a direct quote) "tried to put it back." Of course the milk container was meant to be one way so this attempt made a bit of a mess and he lost a few pieces of cereal into it. Having contaminated the whole gallon of milk he tried to fish them out with a tablespoon which he maneuvered in there with some amount of force and persistence and then promptly dropped into the milk container as well. Now he was panicking so he made not one, but two attempts with butter knives before finally enlisting our help.

I'll never forget Mike pouring the milk out and hearing all that silverware clang into the bowl. Kids!!