A long dramatic story dedicated solely to the subject of styrofoam

Monday morning Ian came downstairs with all these little white styrofoam pellets stuck in his hair. I laughed at first because he really was a sight, but then I realized there was probably a huge mess somewhere. I was right. He completely demolished a big block of styrofoam so it was in millions of tiny pieces all over his room. Oh, and the boy decided he should dump out a laundry hamper on his floor before he shredded the styrofoam. So the result was clothes and toys covered with these clingy bits. I don't know if you have ever dealt with tiny styrofoam pieces all over your house before but it is a big mess. They are all static-y and they get everywhere. So what started as a mess in Ian's room ended up being a mess in the hallway, the downstairs carpet, on the sofa, my clothes, Elizabeth...you get the picture. And the only way to clean up this mess was with the nozzle attachment to the vacuum. So I started in Ian's room. I vacuumed the bookshelf, the floor, his bed, his dresser, indvidual tinker toys and legos, under all the furniture, the stuffed animals- basically every surface in his room. Plus I had to vacuum all the dirty laundry- tights, socks, pants, shirts. This is his room after quite a bit of vacuuming:

I wish I would have got a better picture, solely for blogging purposes. This one in know way does justice to the magnitude of that mess. That stuff was everywhere. It was horrible. And I had to clean it quickly because it the kids kept spreading it around due to the static factor. It took me all day and two vacuum cleaners to finally get it cleaned up. And actually, I had other things that needed to be done that day. I wasn't quite planning on devoting an entire day just to vacuuming.

To add to it, while I was cleaning, Elizabeth was following me around doing crying.
If you will recall, baby likes to be held at all times and was not happy with me being otherwise occupied. Also while I was cleaning, Ian fell (jumped) off the couch and bit his tongue hard. (And then he couldn't sleep at nap time because he couldn't suck his fingers because it made his tongue hurt. ) I couldn't make him clean with me due to the fact that it would have made the mess even worse.

A lesson was learned though. Styrofoam is evil and should be treated in the same manner as scissors, Sharpie markers and my makeup. Under no circumstances should it be within reaching (or climbing) level of any of the children again. Ever.