Massive dry oatmeal spills (which my girls sneak for snacks?!) tell me when it's time to vacuum.
Wet spills tell me when it's time to mop. Between breakfast, showers, homework, and the bus coming this morning, the boys raided a giant jar of soap (nothing new) and spilled half of it all over the kitchen (new). By the time I got there, they'd slipped and scooted to the entry, spreading the love. Time for the bi-monthly appearance of my mop and bucket, and while I'm at it, I might as well throw the spatula in to scrape a dozen petried green beans off the dining room floor. Some months, I'm lucky enough that it's just a pitcher of water or juice that spills. This month, I guess we needed the extra cleaning power.
Oh, did I mention that the boys also got a bath out of our little crisis too? Baths are also purely dictated by crisis around here. Crises of sticky messes or incredible smells that is.
Yay for clean floors! However, I do truly hope that I don't have occasion to clean them until at least next month. I have been ignoring the little piles of oatmeal upstairs for a week though...
update: Would you believe that I stepped in a new puddle of the very same soap when I bumbled downstairs to make bottles this morning? Apparently more fun was had while I was at work last night. And I'm the genius who put the soap right back where they destroyed it yesterday! No mop today, just a few towels. I chose to hunt down the oatmeal instead.