Cleaning

I hate cleaning.

Actually I don't mind doing the actual chores. Sometimes the activity of cleaning and the end result is actually therapeutic. What I mind is how quickly those chores become undone. Here's an example:

This morning, after Little Boy showered my kitchen floor (and the cats) with two large handfuls of soggy Cheerios, I decided that sweeping and mopping the floor needed bumped to the top of my priority list for the day. Along with emptying the litter box I hadn't cleaned in over a week and vacuuming the living room floor which had started to rival the garden for how much dirt, leaves, and mulch had accumulated on the carpet.

By mid-afternoon my cleaning list seemed complete! The kitchen floor had been swept and mopped, the litter box emptied, the living room cleaned and vacuumed, PLUS two loads of laundry had been washed and chicken for dinner could be found marinating in the fridge. Yes, friends, I felt good about my day!

And then Little Boy came home from an errand with Hubby.

Within ten minutes, toys carpeted the living room floor, Little Boy spit out a chewed up animal cracker on to my sparkling kitchen floor, and the cats tracked pawfuls of litter throughout the house, probably to spite me for waiting so long to clean their box out in the first place.

After dinner, with dishes piled high on the table and counter, Hubby and I looked around the house, and honestly, you would have never guessed that at 4pm, the house shined as though ready for company.

And that is why I hate cleaning.

But, friends, I do love my Hubby who cleaned the kitchen and put away all the baby toys, so that the house looks moderately clean again! Thanks, Hubby!