It’s a gorgeous summer Saturday night. The kids are asleep early. Hubby is away with the team, the team is playing, and the game is on.
I fully intended to plop down on the couch, tune in to the live radio broadcast with the TV on mute (as real fans do), and relax.
But… let’s face it, we cancelled our cleaning people for the summer, Hubby’s been gone for a week, and I’ve been in survival mode. The living room was DISGUSTING. I couldn’t even locate a place to sit without encountering crumbs/ sticky candy/ dried yogurt/ random Legos/ open markers/ bits of paper/ dried glue et cetera.
Hands on hips, I surveyed the disaster area, and resolved to both catch the game AND tidy the living room.
Then I got really into it. My neatening-up morphed into a massive cleanup effort, including changing out and laundering the couch cover, vacuuming, and even steam cleaning the rug (which was necessary because of a bit of a tempera paint blowout resulting in colorful footprints… and using the steam cleaner we “borrowed” from my mom a few years back).
Then I hit the kitchen and dining rooms: counter tops bleach-wiped, bathroom disinfected, floors Pine-sol’d, tablecloth replaced. Whew!
But don’t feel sorry for me: I enjoyed myself! I can’t remember the last time I had a big block of uninterrupted time to clean house. It felt awesome. I missed most of the game, but accomplished my goals.
That is, until the kids woke up on Sunday.