Every day brings with it a new task for cleaning. I don't deny that this is the majority of my work in the day. My first goal is always to love my boys and keep them alive. A good day would be finished without requiring staples, band-aids or ?? The next goal, which is also a little hard to attain, is that of a somewhat sanitary existence. I'm not saying I want my house sterile, the kind of home where it looks like no one has ever walked into. I'd just like to survive walking across the living room or using the bathroom without getting toothpaste all over my hands...
Each day truly has its own challenges.
Milk in the carpet. That was yesterday.
Marker on the walls was two days ago (thank God for "goof-off").
Random bug parts... hourly.
Broken toilets. Clogged sinks. Stained clothes. Muddy floors. Spills in the fridge. Spills under the fridge. Broken glass. More broken glass. Still more broken glass. Broken glass from a lava lamp.
But today I have a new dilemma I had never faced. My chocolate-brown microfiber chair, my sole piece of furniture that I like has been tainted. It received an extended visit from a school of goldfish. Granted, I think I could handle having the kind that actually swim. These were the kind that have oil and flour and more oil. And they left their marks....their little silhouettes...on my chair. So, today I ponder how to clean the chair, or if the fish and chocolate should remain paired. *sigh*