Everyday, I get up and suggest to my family that WE need to get the house picked up and cleaned. Everyday, they act as if this is some new form of torture that I have invented to make their lives hellish. What I don't understand is how this is a new concept to them every single day. How they don't get (after years of me telling them, showing them, and reminding them) where the dirty clothes go, where the toys go, and where the trash goes.
Then there are the books. Books are becoming a love-hate type of thing in my house. The 1st One is always reading. Good if you are also willing to help with other stuff and not reading all night instead of sleeping. My Son has two books he wants read over and over and over again. I am so tired of reading about Star Wars I could cry. What is worse, I get to hear the epic battle played out again and again in his bed at night. For an hour you can hear battle cries, clashes, and, my all time favorite, "OH NOOOOOOOOOOO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHH! HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLP MEEEEEEEEEEEEE! AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The Wild Child will cry for hours if she can not find the book she is looking for and will cry for days if the book she is looking for is in the possession of a sibling. Which brings me to the Little Jamaican.... Oh, that girl! She loves books. I am not sure how the books feel about her. If she would just read them and look at them we would be in good shape, but she likes to build with them, make them into blankets to sleep under at night (don't get me started with that), she likes to draw/color in them, and occasionally remove an offending page from the book. (Sorry I got off on a tangent here.) So the books get left out all over the house.
I would really like to understand what happens in my bathrooms. The combination of paper, water, hair products, and whatever else is in there could seriously cause the EPA to make me placard my bathrooms with signs such as this.
However, the part that has me most perplexed is this. Everyday when I say we are going to pick-up and/or clean the house, the response is always the same. They always ask, "Who's coming over?" They seem to be under the impression that we only need a clean house if we are having guests over. In their defense, I become much more adamant about the task-at-hand when we are expecting people over, but certainly a woman could desire to walk through her living room with out threat to her feet or use a toilet in her own home without having to hover.
So today is no different, I am off to get this place cleaned before we have guests. I am assuming they would rather not hover.
Turns Out, I Am The Reason We Can't Have Nice Things
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