Names Have Been Changed to Protect the Foolish

So, my friend Jane had this little problem yesterday. Her daughter, Maggie, spilled most of a bottle of syrup on the kitchen floor. Jane was beside herself. She already wasn't feeling well, since she'd awakened this morning with the family cold she'd been trying to avoid. Maggie had previously ruined one dinner before it was eaten, so this mess on the floor was just about all Jane could take.

In her brain-addled state, Jane left the mess on the floor until she was able to think of an effective cleaning method. She sent Maggie into the bath tub to wash her hands and feet of the goo, which was now collecting all the stray bits of dust and hair from the carpeting.

After the bath was complete, both girls of the house sat together with the day's movie running a second or third time through. Jane wrote to all her friends on the internet about the big messes she'd encountered over the course of the evening. Unfortunately, although she'd been able to help her brother with an algebraic equation earlier in the day, she neglected to figure the variable M into the cleaning equation.

Yes, folks, it's sad but true. Maggie, left to her own devices, decided to spread the puddle around the kitchen to cover more floor space. Through the fog that was her thought process, Jane heard a suspicious slurping sound coming from the kitchen. She called out, "Maggie? What are you doing?"

"Just playing," came the high-pitched answer. Jane hauled herself off the chair in time to see her little sticky-handed (and -footed) child backing away from the smeared syrup AAACK onto the dining room rug!

Another bath was in order. Jane left her daughter splashing in the tub to investigate the further damage. Actually, it wasn't that bad, she decided. The pool was bigger now, but not nearly so deep. While Maggie finished her bath and got ready for bed, Jane filled a plastic bowl with hot soapy water and grabbed the sponge from the sink. She found that the plastic scrubby side worked wonders in scraping off the bits that had already dried. The smooth spongy side cleared it all off and was easily rinsed out in the bowl. It even worked on the carpet.

As the evening came to a close, order (or what passes for it in Jane's house) had been restored. Maggie slept comfortably. Jane decided to laugh rather than cry and, for the hilarity of us all, I--uh, I mean she chose to share her continued adventures with the internet at large.