The fruity aroma alerted me. Naively I suspected produce trimmings in the garbage. My bare feet sticking to the kitchen floor completed the mystery: Mowgli had carved a watermelon for his evening snack leaving juice pooled on the island and spread across the floor.
I was on my way to bed, not in the mood to clean a kitchen. I could have demanded that Mowgli come downstairs to assist me, but I took the easy way out, wiping the island and swabbing the floor myself. After all, I am the grandma and can be excused for being easy.
Everyone assists in maintaining the house. No one person is responsible for loading/unloading the dishwasher, cleaning counters, picking up dog messes, etc. Other than Mowgli who appears totally unaware of any disarray, everyone does their part.
There are times, like that night, that I think it would be nice to not be picking up after others. But that would mean that others aren’t around. And I am not ready for that.
But sticky floors? I could do without those.