The Witching Hour

There isn't a mommy out there who doesn't know what I mean when I use the phrase "witching hour". Around here we celebrate this most joyous of occasions nightly from 4:59 to 6:30, and yes I am acutely aware that this is more than an hour. 

Last night was no exception. Matt was still working in the dining room, Lily was refusing to eat the dinner I had made her, and Ben was up to his usual high chair shenanigans. I had started dinner, and I was probably trying to get too many things done at once. I was feeding Ben a delicious blend of squash, applesauce, oatmeal, and breast milk when the oven timer dinged. I set Ben's dish down on the counter, turned my back toward the oven, and the next thing I knew...this had happened. 

I do not have hardwood floors in the kitchen. The above splatter...in the sun room...8 ft from Ben's highchair. 

There are no words to explain the trajectory. 

At first I was impressed by the height. The under side of this cabinet is about 5 1/2 feet off the ground. 

AND THEN I LOOKED UP.

This is the top of our cabinets and the crown molding. I didn't take any pictures once I was perched over the sink, standing on the counter and trying to wipe squash off the woodwork, so you will just have to take my word for it but you guys, there was squash ABOVE the cabinets in the 6 inch space between the molding and the ceiling. 

More splatter in the sun room, we kept finding these blobs even hours after I thought I had cleaned it all up. 

Daddy volunteered to finish feeding Ben so that I could clean up. What a swell guy. The first thing I did was grab a bottle of champagne from the fridge and take a few sips straight from the bottle, then I laughed, and then I cleaned up while Lily serenaded me with her very own rendition of Jingle Bells.  

Aaaahhhh, the witching hour. Good times.