I hate fingernail polish!

This evening, I hastily finished up cleaning the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of deep purple nail polish that a friend had returned to me just moments before, thinking ahead to where it belonged. Either I wasn't paying attention (which happens on occasion) or simple clumsiness intervened (which happens on frequent occasion); whatever the reason, the nail polish slipped from my spinning grip and was flung--hard, and at an angle--onto the very light grey kitchen tile. You may have already guessed that it broke, but let me elaborate on the extent of its breakage.

In horror, I gazed at the polish oozing its violet liquid all over the tile. In a matter of 3 seconds, I did the following--assessed that there was no polish on the carpet (though later Dave found a shard of glass and the handle-brush five feet across the carpeted room); scooped up the largest glass pieces and tossed them in the garbage can (also sporting purple drips); and grabbed the nearest rag, wiping up the goop as rapidly as possible.

It wasn't fast enough. Though I got a lot of it up, an area of 8 feet long and 3 feet wide had been splattered. Some tiles had it bad, while others seemed unaffected. After a few minutes with the wet cloth, the mess began to dry and it became clear that fingernail polish remover would be necessary. So I unscrewed the pink cap and started in on the scrubbing. 45 minutes later my fingers ached, and my tarnished hands felt dried out, but I thought I had finished. I decided to sweep and mop. That's when I found more evil splatters. (I'd estimate at least a hundred speckles the size of a pin tip, all of which required intense personal attention!)

I wanted to sob just a little, but I'm a glass half-full kinda gal, so I started attempting to look at the bright side. This took some creativity. First, it did get me out of giving the girls their baths. The joy that thought brought me was short-lived though, as I realized that a) I'd probably have to make it up and b) I would so much rather be on bath duty than scrub-your-fingers-raw-while-getting-buzzed-on-fingernail-polish-remover duty. So I tried the "glad game" again. I realized that my hands looked like I was the prime suspect in a murder case, and just in time for church. That could make teaching the 4 year olds interesting. (They look a lot better in this picture than they did at first.)

And that's it. That's all I could come up with. But I have one more positive outcome to report: It is your lucky day, because due to my extensive experience, I am now in a position to offer some excellent advice.

#1. Do not, under any circumstance, ever (ever!) break a bottle of nail polish in your kitchen. Spilling fingernail polish anywhere would fall under this umbrella.

#2. Should you choose to ignore Tip #1 , DO wear gloves as all the scrubbing (not to mention the polish removal) is not good for your manicure.

#3. Also, DO avoid inhaling too much of the remover as it may make you queasy.

#4. Finally, DO NOT forget to take a picture of the mess for your blog. Unfortunately, I did, so you'll have to consider what I've got as ample evidence of this evening's misadventure.

Hope your night was better than mine!