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when we got home, paul's little ikea plastic step-thing was in front of the kitchen sink. i don't know why.

when i went to wash the dishes post-dinner, i decided to use it instead of putting it away. (it reminded me of the little step we had at my parents' house. my aunt used it when she washed dishes. she's maybe 4'9"? i think i stopped using it when i turned 10.) holy crap. if that's what it's like being six inches taller, i'm glad i'm short. the sink looked so very far away. my back started to hurt.

scrub, scrub, scrub. ache, ache, ache.

then i heard footsteps. i jumped down and kicked the step-thing to the side... but i was too late. cam had already spotted me. he laughed. i felt sheepish.

cam: give little mommy a hug.
paul: little mommy!
me: feh.
me: stop calling me that.
cam: hey, i wouldn't have even noticed if you hadn't jumped and kicked the footstool.

little mommy: feh.



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