I know, I know. It's silly. Why should I care what they think of my housekeeping skills (or lack thereof)? But I just DO. C's mother keeps an immaculate house, and I just want the place to look presentable. Last time she cleaned the oven while I was at work, then showed me proudly when I got home, proclaiming it to have been "so filthy!". You can imagine how that made me feel. The funny thing is - I genuinely don't think she did/said that to make me feel bad. She is just happy to be helping!
At the moment, the house looks like a brothel. Without the whores, obviously. Probably fewer bedsheets to wash too. Why is it that I can have the place looking fairly decent on a Sunday night, but by Friday I'm staring at piles of socks on the lounge room floor, junk mail scattered everywhere and dirty dishes piled so high in the sink I can't even fill up the kettle?
I know why. It's because what little "maintenance" cleaning I do during the week can't keep up with our level of untidyness. Tell you what though, even though C is pretty good, it wouldn't kill him to put his clothes in the laundry basket every now and again, would it?
So this afternoon I'm going to reward myself for a hard morning of cleaning showers, vacuuming, dusting and mopping. Not sure how yet, but I'm sure I'll think of something involving either chocolate or alcohol! Possibly both.
(By the way, the makers of those Viva shower cleaning wipes will be pleased to know I bought some after seeing not one but TWO bloggers review them. Blog PR works, folks!)
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