I am so angry I’m practically shaking. I’m moments away for a full body pummel of my bed. I’m talking fists, kicking, thrashing and screaming.
Why so mad?
For Bella’s baptism I received what I deem the worst gift ever: The Hallmark Hand Print Kit. I find it unlikely that if I had a helper it would have gone any better. But I did in fact decide to do this alone as the H is camping for the weekend and Bear was taking what seemed like the world’s longest nap.
It started out fine. She was happily sitting as I mixed the plaster to the desire toothpaste consistency. Then came the hard part, how the fuck do you get a six month old to stick their hand in some plaster to make a successful mold? You don’t. At all. In any remote capacity. Nor their foot.
What you do get is two people, their clothes and a kitchen floor completely covered in plaster and a metal tin that now has hardened plaster and absolutely no print. One of them is crying uncontrollably and the other one is barely holding it together.
It was the most trying 15 minutes I have experienced in a long time. There was plaster everywhere. All over the floor (which by the way is hard to remove), my pants, my hands and arms, Bella’s face, hands, arms, foot and clothes. There may have been more plaster on then left in the tin.
I scrapped the hardened plaster out with a knife, not an easy task in and of itself. Just in case I one day feel masochistic enough to spend the extra $5 for them to send me some more plaster, because they know that there’s no way you’re going to be able to do it the first time.
As they say on the back of the box:
“We also understand that it is difficult sometimes for a child to cooperate in making a handprint.”
Understatement of the year.