Sludge

You know the sludge at the bottom of the sink after you've washed a big load of greasy, food-baked-on, nasty pots and pans? You know. The stuff. The Sludge. That you would never. ever. touch. when you were a kid. And your mom would just swoop in bare handed, grab a fist full and dump it into the garbage. At that point you were certain she was going to go into toxic shock. And then you could probably get away with eating the entire carton of ice cream even though you didn't finish your (insert your most detested childhood meal here). Except she didn't and then you were horrified and a little afraid. It only proved your mom was indestructible. Remember when you thought your parents were indestructible. And you were sure you would never. ever. become an adult as indestructible as them.

I swore I would never. ever. touch. the. sludge. But that promise has died. Along with all the other promises I made about never getting married. or owning a house. or kissing boys (that one went out a LONG time ago). or doing anything to do with chores or bills or work or the boring stuff.

And today at work I realized I was the indestructible one among the babes in daycare. I swept a handful of ants into my palm and threw them outside. The kids avoided any bad behaviour after that maneuver.