Glitter. My Nemesis.
As much as I love snow, I hate glitter. And by hate, I mean loathe.
Liz has this habit of hating days of the week (weird, I know, but she hates most of them, all for varying reasons. People may think she's kind of a peace, love, hippie kind of girl, but not when it comes to weekdays), but I can honestly say that I don't really hate much in life, except those super-tiny, but not-quite-minuscule-enough-not-to-see dots of sparkly crap.
Why has this come up?
Well, Saturday, I was hunting with my brother, and Liz took that time to do Christmas crafts with the girls. Somehow she thinks that Christmas art projects require glitter, and so she let the kids glitter to their hearts content (of course they love the stuff).
What transpired is that there is now a glitter-encased sheen over our entire living/dining room. On the table! On the chairs! In the carpet!
And the vacuum will never get it all out of the carpet, it will hopefully just settle into the crevices like last year's glitter explosion did after a few months. Somehow though, the glitter is currently stuck on the table and chairs, and even if we wipe and wipe with a cloth (wet or dry), it just seems to move it around.
It does get on our hands and our faces, our baby's mouth, and even in the soup!
No thanks, I don't really want a glitter garnish. Even if it is non-toxic, Liz.
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