Ben Sloot

My morning was going well. Charlie ‘slept’ in, as much as she generally does, and watched me while I took care of the previous evening’s bottles and dishes. Since she peacefully sat observing from the kitchen island, I figured I could make some bottles for later in the day and free up some milk containers in the fridge.

One thing about the stored breast milk, the fat rises to the top. This requires a good 30 seconds of vigorous swirling to reintegrate the filling creme with the watery volume of liquid.

While I was putting some extra flex in swirling the 32oz mason jar of breast milk, I lost my grip. The jar exploded as it made contact with the granite countertop of the kitchen island.

Charlie sat a safe distance away. Her expression remained unchanged. Meanwhile, my pajamas absorbed a healthy amount of refrigerated liquid, and tiny bits of glass spread across the kitchen floor.

All before 8 in the morning.

What a way to start a day, but at least my brand new Coffee Pot stayed intact.