The hazards of coffee

“Robin, do you have a leak in your roof?” Susie had come by to collect me for lunch and was staring at my dining room ceiling.

“No, not that I know of. Why?”

Silently she pointed upward.  There on the ceiling were a couple of dozen dark spots of various sizes. We have been having some rain lately and I suppose it’s possible but surely I would have noticed. I stared for a minute. “Oh, I know,” I said. “I spilled coffee yesterday.”

“You spilled coffee on the ceiling?”

“Apparently so.” Drat. How am I going to get that off of there? “I spent all morning on my hands-and-knees scrubbing the kitchen floor, but I never thought about the ceiling.”

We both stared some more. “Just tell me how you did it.”

I sighed, remembering. “You know how you reach for something when you’re really not looking and mis-judge it?” Susie nodded. “I was reading the paper and reached for the coffee cup and instead of grabbing it, I knocked into it and it went flying.” I took a tentative step and winced when I felt the slight squish in the carpet. Still not dry.

“Yes, but how did it get up there?”

“It was really quite remarkable — I probably couldn’t duplicate it if I tried. When I knocked the cup, it didn’t tip, it just sort of jumped onto the floor and landed right side up with such a thud that the coffee sprayed out like a geyser. I was drenched. Everything on the table was soaked. Thank goodness I hadn’t yet showered and dressed for the day. The only thing that didn’t get wet was Lop Ear because he was under the table.”

Lop Ear, hearing his name and assuming that meant it was time to eat, perked right up, his bad ear twitching.

“No, you big lunk, it is not dinner time. Go eat that dry food that’s in your dish.” With a sigh of great long-suffering, he turned around and laid back down under the chair.

Later that afternoon I dragged out the step stool, grabbed my bottle of vinegar water and a sponge and set to work. The vinegar water barely made a dent. It’s hard work scrubbing a ceiling, by-the-way. Okay, let’s try something else — I fished under the sink and came up with 409. Not all that much better and let me tell you, that stuff stings when it gets in your eyes.

Okay, next to try — hmmm… spray Clorox. Okay, that must be it. You know, standing on a ladder spraying something over your head and trying to keep your eyes closed at the same time is NOT easy. But I think I’ve got it. Well, pretty much anyway.

So now my dining room smells like bleach, two-day old coffee and the rug is still slightly squishy — I’ll deal with that tomorrow.

Besides, who looks at ceilings anyway? Well, besides Susie.