When life gives you lemons,

You make lemon meringue pie, of course.  But since this is a story about lemonade, we'll use that analogy instead.

I was in a hurry to get the kids out the door for church.  The Lewis's are always running late.  It's become a trademark.  People will say, "Will you be here at 7:00 regular time, or Lewis time?"  It's embarrassing, because it's totally true.  I don't know how some people are always early or at least on time.  It is a talent of which I stand in awe.

But that's another blog post.  Back to the story.

I put the kids in the car and ran back in for some sippie cups.  Many a fussy attitude is nipped bya sippie cup of juice or chocolate milk, or in this case, lemonade.  I had just filled Ella's cup when my hand slipped and it went flying.  All over me.  And the floor.  And the stools.  And the island.  And, well, you get the idea.  I was sopping it up with some towels and trying to figure out if I had time to run change, when Ella came in the house to see what was going on. 

Ella:  Mom, what's taking so long?
Me:  Well, I just spilled lemonade all over the place. 
Ella:  Oh!  Is there anything I can do to help?
Me:  Yes.  Why don't you take the jackets outside in case we need them later.  I'm coming as soon as I clean this up.
Ella:  Okay.  Be careful this time, mom.  {sympathetic pause}  Well, as careful as you can be.

the little stinker at two years old

Nice.