As a mother, there is worse feeling than finding a sippy cup under the couch (the only other dreadful thing I can equate to this moment is when your child is across the room and sneezes. Is it a gross sneeze or are you in the clear?). Has the cup been there long? Is it MILK?
This morning, as I was cleaning nerf darts, I encountered one of those “under the couch cups.” I knew it had been downstairs since Friday, when Chris & Daddy had their blanket bed movie party.
I was scared. My stomach filled with doom as I pulled out the cup and loosened the top. Please don’t be milk, please don’t be milk… raced through my head as I opened the lid and peaked inside.
As a mother, there is no better feeling than opening the top of an old sippy cup and discovering water inside of it.