Yesterday I gave the kids a pile of work and instructions to sit quietly and do their work or suffer certain death. Because I had no choice. I needed to clean and I needed to do school. These two things do not compliment complement each other very well, so I did what I had to do. When I wake up in the morning and realize that every single wall and baseboard in my house is sticky (and when I mean sticky, I mean something got splashed/wiped on it months ago and has now accumulated dust and dog hair) and the floor looks like someone splatter painted it, it is time to do some cleaning.

It was dark and dismal. I scrubbed the dining room chairs and found unspeakable things. Things that should have become self-aware by now, judging by how long they’ve been there. At one point I resorted to MOPPING THE WALLS. It had to be done.

Heaven help us all if I ever have to get this house ready to be put on the housing market. If this horrific scenario ever comes to pass, one of two things will happen:

1. I will be driven to insanity and will end up in a mental institution.

2. The children will be forced to the streets to find food and someone change their diapers for three weeks while I clean.

I really would love to post pictures, but I can’t bring myself to even plug the camera into my computer. It is too laborious. You get my drift.