It's Raining Frogs

Twenty minutes ago I wouldn't have been surprised if the roof opened up, thunder roared, and frogs started raining down in my kitchen.

The Scene:
Sarah and I were innocently preparing a lovely chicken pot pie using my oh-so-nifty DS Cooking Trainer. We were approaching a critical stage of preparation -- that delicate balance between simmering and boiling -- when... suddenly... the clouds parted.

In the interest of clarity, I shall list the disasters in the order of their appearance:

(1) I reach in the fridge to grab milk for the pie filling and accidentally pop the top of the sideways-laying apple cider jug. It commences to spew fruity stickiness over every shelf (it was on the top of course) and form an impressive puddle on the floor.
(2) Donny, seeing the fridge door open, runs over and starts pointing and yelling "Gee GUT! GEE GUT!!!!". Having no clue what he is saying.. and in the midst of trying to remove every item from the fridge, I attempt to ignore him.
(3) He comes closer to the puddle and I have a sudden flash of sticky toddler footprints filling the house. (Because, of course, the time a toddler would decide to run through every room of the house at an unprecedented pace is immediately after stepping in something difficult to clean.)
(4) Sopping paper towels in hand, I try to block his path. "GEE GUTT!! GEE GUTT" he is crying....
(5) In the other room, baby Thomas starts to howl.
(6) Sarah and I try to block it out while alternately grabbing items from the fridge, soaking up cider, moving "GEE GUT" Donny away from the fridge, and rushing over to stir the pot-pie filling before it boils over.
(7) "GEE GUT!!!" "GEE GUTTTT (crrryyyyyyyy) GEE GUTT!!!!!"
(8) "Whaaaaaaaahhhhh" continues to emanate from the other room.
(9) "GEEEEEEEE GUTTTTT!!!!!!!!"
(10) Paper towels... water.... lysol wipes... stir pot...
(11) Helpful husband in other room: "Can you bring a bottle out here for Thomas?"
(12) Sarah starts on the bottle. I juggle the fridge and the stove.
(13) "Donny!! What do you WANT!!!!??!?!?" I ask him, my head ready to pop off.
"GEE GUT!!" he cries tearfully again and again...
(14) "Where is the bottle?" Helpful husband yells.
(15) (whimpering tears) "Geeeee gutttt!!"
(16) I look at the counter. Somehow the bottle that was in progress has been abandoned. I grab it and rush to put formula in it.
(17) (sad crying) "Gee guttttttt!!" he points at the lower shelves of the fridge.
"Cheese?" I ask hopefully as I grab for a bottle ring and nipple? "NOOOOOO!!! GEE GUT!!!" Sarah pushes him away from the puddle of stickiness yet to be tackled.
(18) I quickly sigh and attempt to put the top on the bottle. It bounces off and lands..... right in the middle of the cider puddle.
(19) "WHAAAAAHHHH" Thomas yells.
(20) "GEE GUT!!"
(21) "Sarah, stir the pot!"
(22) "Where is the bottle???"
(23) "Donny get away from there!!!"
(24) "GEE GUT!!!"

(Let us pause to reflect on the fact that Helpful Husband was, at least, holding Thomas. Jason, however, continued to sit in the middle of the living room on the Wii Fit Balance Board complaining that there was too much noise for him to concentrate on not blowing the Zen-candle out with his butt.) (It's something you gotta see.)

RESUME SCENE:
(25) "GEE GUT!"
(26) "Donny, get away... I don't know what you want!" I search for another bottle nipple.
(27) Bottle finally ready, I deliver it to Helpful Husband and screaming baby Thomas.
(28) I toss cider-soaked, two-year-old fridge food into the trash and stir the pot.
(29) Donny continues to point frantically at the lower shelves of the fridge. "GEE GUT!!!" he cries pitifully.
(30) Fridge now more or less cleaned out, Sarah works on pouring the milk (remember, this is how it all started) in the pie-filling pan and stirring.
(31) "Geeeee guttt"
(32) I stand over him. "What????? What do you want!!??? Show me." He points.
(33) "Cheese?" I ask again. "Noooooooo."
(34) He points again.
(35) I pause. There is no way that THIS is what he has been trying to say....
(36) "Yogurt?" I ask tentatively?
(37) "YETH!!!" he says happily... stopping to wipe tears from his face, happy that mommy has stopped being such a moron.
(38) "Sarah, put that stuff back in the fridge now."
(39) I stir the pot and head to the table with yogurt and a spoon. Donny stands by me helpless, too traumatized by his efforts to eat at his seat -- he needs to sit in my lap.
(40) Donny in lap... Thomas being fed.... an entire roll of paper towels decimated... fridge being re-loaded... and pot being stirred... (oh yeah, and Jason not disturbed from his Wii-Fit)... the clouds finally begin to dissipate.

Sarah is now clasping her head and asking for a tylenol.
I think I'll join her.
And I'll add a wine-chaser.