A bad case of the dropsies, or, a benefit of having dogs

I have been incredibly clumsy lately, and, as with everything I don't want to take the blame for, I'm blaming this on my pregnant state. As with the peas the other day, I somehow magically flung a dog bowl full of chicken and broccoli soup onto the floor during a recent lunch. I don't even know what happened, because the bowls weren't that full, and Spanky's food made it to the floor still in its container. But when I went to put Adora's dish down, it instead flew out of my hand and (of course) landed upside down, soup everywhere. I quickly looked around and started grabbing paper towels, but Adora was one step ahead of me. She cleaned that floor up like a good little Hoover (Hoogestraat) should, and Spanky even came in after her to do some light spot cleaning. I was left with a slightly sticky, wet floor, which was easily cleaned with moistened paper towels and dish soap. Everyone benefited from my channeling of Dick Van Dyke (as Pete likes to call me during my clumsier moments), which is how it should be, right?