"Have you ever thrown a fist full of glitter in the air?" - Pink

I know the girls did not throw glitter in the air today.  I know this because I would have heard hysterical laughter and squealing if they had.  Unfortunately, the aftermath of this sweet little glue/glitter/bead craft project, of which I was unaware, was profound.  To quote a friend, it was like "a fairy exploded" in my house (thank you, L).  Actually, it was more like a troupe of fairies.

The craft table, already covered in paper, crayons, beads, markers, etc, was the point of detonation and therefore suffered the most damage.  After that, the sparkly stuff that runs through the veins of many little girls followed the classic shock wave pattern and moved throughout the not-small play room filled with Barbies, Legos and even more Legos, pretend food for the kitchen, and Hot Wheels.  Plastic is a magnet for glitter and I can't imagine how I'll ever get it all off.  To be honest, I won't even try.  I have better and less maddening things to do.

I don't even know where they found it.  I'm pretty mellow about craft projects and the kids are generally free to do whatever they want with whatever they find.  Glue, play doh, scissors, recyclables, paint.  None of them faze me, but the stuff is usually hidden away somewhere. Actually, I like glitter. Most of the reason why I like it is because the kids get so excited when I bring it out, as if I'm presenting them with the keys to the candy factory and an all-you-can-eat pass. 

I'm not even upset with the girls.  Truly.  They were so proud of the work they brought up from the basement, down the hall, to the kitchen.  They left a trail of gold, red, and blue sparkles wherever their sweet little feet trod.  Across carpet.  Across hardwood (there will be glitter in the cracks of the wood FOREVER).  In the bathrooms. On the stairs.  In their bedrooms. In their hair.  Wherever my gaze fell, lay a piece of glorious glitter.  They handed me their shimmering, drippy creations with their hands covered in Elmer's and I felt a little sick.  After the washing-of-the-hands and feet, I forced myself to inspect the crime scene.  Every step closer produced more and more evidence until I felt I was literally walking on a path of gold.  Lovely.  Absolutely lovely.

So I vacuumed and threw the things away I did not want to try and salvage, and vacuumed some more.   It will never go completely away and I'm okay with that.  Maybe tomorrow I'll create a glitter clean-up game with the crumbgobblers where victory means you don't have to brush your teeth for one night.  For some reason they get all wound up if they don't have to participate in good dental  hygiene.   It's a powerful motivator.




True.  So very true.