Last night we had three different disaster messes, each the responsibility of a separate family member. Sarah began the evening while we were watching the latest episode of Lost by knocking over a full glass of cranberry juice and soda in the bedroom. The spill reached onto my Fear and Loathing in America book staining a good chunk of the pages red. So I mopped the juice down with half a roll of paper towels and we continued our evening. After this I decided to play airplane with Madeline and she was happily flying above me when she launched a full stomach full of half digested milk onto my lap. The results looked like this:

Since I was feeling quite smug about not really having been responsible for the first few accidents of the evening during a break from watching the movie, The Chumscrubber (heavily influenced by Donnie Darko but not as good), I went to get some leftover Bertucci's pizza and walked over to Sarah while she was feeding Madeline in the baby's room. I had figured that the pizza would be plenty stable since it was cold and leftovers. But the pizza disagreed with me and started dropping spatters of tomatoes and tomatoe sauce onto the white rug in Madeline's room.

So last night we proved that we are a schmutzy family with the genetics of the character Pig Pen from Peanuts in case anyone wanted to map them.