It was like a burial ground. Wading through the waste across the floor. The lumps of freshly cooked vegetables laid unloved at the little Lord’s feet. Rising to my feet, the view was that of a massacre. The little Lord had begun the weaning process. The disarray of the kitchen was apparent. Even the furniture looked weary. And the newly bought high chair no longer glistened with shiny anticipation to be used. Unlike toys in a toy store begging to be purchased, I was sure I could see the high chair edge slowly towards the door, little did we all know that this was just the beginning. The little lord was feasting.
It was like the The Walking Dead, we were in a Zombie apocalypse. The little Zombie Lord had angled himself appropriately to take his first bite, the first proper chunk to fill his mouth. After careful deliberation, selecting produce to prepare, we waited patiently for the conditions to be perfect. It was lukewarm, fresh and juicy, steadying ourselves we seen the Zombie Lord in action. Wiping the residue from his face, I peered down to see the remnants of
my husband’s arm fruit and porridge covering his little chubby arms and face. The berries didn’t stand a chance.
Opening the clothes basket I came face to face with the result of the feast. The deliciously cute clothing that had been hand chosen and taken to the check out of the retail store, lay crumpled and sad at the top of the basket. Once new, colourful, clean and unworn, now it was stained with reds, oranges, greens and browns splashed across the neck and down the front. Collecting the evidence I returned to the scene of the massacre- the kitchen, placing the clothes into the washer, even with pre-treatment, I knew the clothes could not be saved. The Zombie Lord had accomplished his mission. Suddenly, a thought pierced through the devastation of the kitchen’s condition. I paced upstairs and entered the bathroom, glancing at the mirror, only then did I realise that the Zombie Lord had achieved what must’ve been his goal all along. Steadying myself I emerged as Zombie Mama, with wild hair and streaks of red across my cheek.
1:0 to Zombie Lord Baby, watch your back, Zombie Queen Mama is coming for you.
Were you surpised at how messy weaning was? Let me know below! For more adventures about the mess of weaning see The Dinner Time Thieves where the Little Pirate Lord emerges