Foreshadowing

My favorite kind of schoolwork growing up was literary analysis. Right up until I graduated college I loved writing papers which elaborated on the personification, alliteration, allusion, and any other device that made a story work. One of my personal favorite literary devices was foreshadowing. I loved (and still love) when an author takes a mundane detail and mentions it or highlights it and leaves the reader wondering, "Now, why did she point that out here and now? What's the significance?" That's when I file that detail away, expecting to see it play a major role right at the crux of the story's theme. aha!
Well, if I thought my life was anything like a novel then I should have seen this one coming. This morning, Texan made himself some scrambled eggs with cheese. I was horizontal on the couch trying to pay attention to the Today show as Scarlett bid good morning to her toys. Then Texan said, "Oh, that's not ketchup. That's chili sauce. That would've been gross on my eggs." I didn't respond. But I was listening. That one sentence stood out to me. I just wasn't awake enough to wonder why.
Later that morning while washing some dishes, I looked over to see Scarlett had reached up onto the kitchen table and pulled down the bubble machine I had recently bought. The floor was now flooded with liquid bubbles and she was kicking her feet in the slimy puddle. I changed her clothes and put her down for a nap. This was incident #1.
When she woke up we played outside. She sat in her swing as I played her Disney Pandora station and folded laundry on the patio. She ate lunch. Then we went on a nice long walk with our neighbor and her new baby. When we got inside I was shaking from hunger. It was already 2 o'clock and I hadn't eaten lunch. As I opened the fridge to put some shredded cheese on my salad it happened. Texan had grabbed the chili sauce from the fridge and put it back in the wrong place. He had put it where the ketchup normally goes--on the bottom rung of the refrigerator door. CRASH. In the time it took me to open the cheese drawer Scarlett had grabbed the bottle, holding by the lid, raised it up in the air and dropped it. It was a brand new glass 140oz bottle of chili sauce, which looks just like ketchup but smells 10x more intense. It was now all over my feet along with tiny shards of glass. I lifted Scarlett of the floor and inspected her piggies, which were perfectly clean. She smiled. I sat her in the living room and barricaded the kitchen with the ottoman. Instead of eating lunch I sopped, swept, wiped, and mopped the mess of the floor for what felt like an hour. I wish I had seen the foreshadowing. Incident #2
After I ate lunch it was time for Ellen, which I was only half paying attention to because her guests were sort of sub-par today. I don't remember what I was doing but I looked up to see Scarlett looking out the front storm door as she loves to do. Then about five minutes later Scarlett began to cry hysterically, which she never does without reason such as a fall or a pinched finger or toe. I ran over and saw a giant wasp or bee or yellow jacket (What is the DIFFERENCE?) floundering on the threshold and Scarlett was holding up her little pointer finger, which was swollen and red. She didn't want me to touch it. I immediately administered Benadryl, called my sister (because my niece has had bad reactions to insect bites), called her doctor, and while awaiting a return call I rang my friend who is a pediatric nurse. By the time her doctor called back and told me to give Benadryl and hydrocortisone Scarlett was asleep in my arms. After laying her in her crib, I located one of her newborn mittens from her sock drawer, covered her finger in the cream and slipped on the mitten. She didn't even stir. Naturally, I took a picture too. She looked so exhausted--she rarely takes 2 naps anymore--so I figured the exhaustion stemmed from the meds and the extra fresh air and mischievousness. Incident #3 to round out the day.
By 9:15pm she was still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, which Texan loved because he got to spend extra time chasing her around the living room and calling her "Stink" as he does. So, she stayed up late. But today had its victories too. Not only did her finger go down in swelling, but she drank cows milk today! I have, in the past, not been able to get Scarlett to drink. Water, milk, juice, smoothies--she won't have it. She will only drink if she is sharing from my cup and drinking like a big girl. Which is just a giant mess in the end. But this past weekend she finally took to--of all things--the bottle! She has drank almost an entire container of apple juice over the past three days. That is huge for her. And tonight she drank 4 ounces of whole milk from the bottle. I am so excited. She still won't drink water from her bottle and when I give her a cup she will take only a few sips then throw it. But since she has never been a bottle drinker expect on a few special occasions, I am okay with this. I could really care less that we had a rough day filled with messes and medicine, I just wanted to jot this day down in history so I can look back at it. If every day was this hectic I would still never trade being her Momma for anything. She is my girl and I love spending my days with her.