no use crying over spilled milk -- but I really want to!

Complete and utter disaster just struck my house, I must have looked too bored or something.  Someone had left some milk on the table so kitty cat tipped it over to get a little drink.  Ooh, how maddening (said with sarcastic foreshadowing).  So Ella wiped that up for me.  Not two minutes later I opened the refrigerator and saw that there was some juice that didn't need refrigerating on the milk shelf so I decided to put it in the pantry.  It was packed in there with two unopened bottles of milk that was just delivered this morning and as I hefted it out the entire shelf decided to disengage itself from the door.  I was left holding the plastic bottle of juice as two half gallon glass bottles of milk shattered into bajillions of pieces onto the kitchen floor.  That really is a lot of milk -- more than I ever realized.  I looked over at Ella and said (screamed), "I don't even know where to start to clean this up!"  She calmly replied, "Why don't you start with the big pieces of glass."  Okay.  I grabbed a plastic bag and tried to slosh through the milk to find all of the glass, but then I heard a lot of dripping.  I turned with dismay as I realized that the milk was streaming under the bottom of the refrigerator and down the back stair onto all of our shoes!!!  It seemed impossible that the situation could get worse, but it was looking that way.  Our fridge is in a nook that used to be stairs and behind it sits three steps on which I put almost every single pair of shoes in our house.  It seemed like a safe place once upon a time.  The other girls got home from school right about then and wondered why there was milk going down the basement stairs.  I didn't know it was.  I grabbed some sponges and the three girls and I began to sop, sop, sop.  I only got one little gash from glass, and no one else did.  We got all the milk up first and then worked on wiping down all the shoes.  Most of it got in Charles' basketball and running shoes.  Nice!  Everyone disappeared as I worked on the final touches down by the washing machine and under all the food storage, but then I felt something hitting my head.  I looked up and saw that there was milk dripping through the drop ceiling above the laundry room.  I don't even know how it got there, but it must be because there is so much milk under the refrigerator.  But I can't move it and Matthew is teaching a class tonight.  I just gave up to gain some solace from my imac.  I love it.  I should name it.  I can't wait to see what my house smells like next summer.  It already has a nice 90 year old house aroma so this should just enhance it all the more.

The big storm has already started and I hear tales of all the stores being out of milk.  I realize that this was my punishment for feeling so smug and prepared.  Humility always strikes me swift and sure so I should have known.