My house is a mess. There’s a pile of laundry that needs to be folded and ironed but will be only be folded. Noah’s toys need to be pushed back to their places around the perimeter of the house. Our dining table is full of stuff from mail to Christmas ornaments and book and pampers (clean). The only actual dining-related thing on the table is a bottle of Sriracha because our Sriracha never really gets put away anyway. Long live Sriracha!
The kitchen needs a sweeping and tidying and the living room could use a vacuuming, yet here I am blogging. It’s my one time of day that’s not dedicated to housework or otherwise stay-at-home mommy duties. Oh, and then there’s our new aquarium that now houses four newly-born tiny baby guppies in addition to our fourteen other fish.
We have two black baby guppies and two gray ones and we hope they all live! They’ve been hiding out in one particular plant and doing great. You can see one of the black baby guppies in the photo, with tiny little fins forming already!
We’ve had our tank for about a week but it feels like it’s been longer. Thankfully there’s not much cleaning up after it I have to do, and when the time comes it’ll be my husband Davy’s job to handle it anyway. I have no interest in smelly slimy fish poop-cleaning.
I have enough cleaning to do as it is. The thing is, and here’s a confession, I HATE cleaning. I love having a clean house but I’m okay with having a messy house too, as long as I’m not having guests. What’s the point of having your own space if you can’t live in your own space for what it is?
My husband Davy’s always been the tidy one before he ever met me and after nearly three (WOW) years of marriage, I think he knows now that I hate to clean. So we have a cleaning lady, Margie, who comes to our house every other Tuesday and so every other Monday, Davy gets a little antsy. Every other Monday we go through a routine where Davy tidies up half the house and leaves the other half for me to tidy while he’s at work, so Margie can “better clean” the next day. Every other Monday I moan and huff and declare how much it sucks that I have clean my house before the cleaning lady comes, even if it makes sense to. I always clean my half of the house but I resent every minute of it and I let it be known.
Davy is a saint to have to deal with those Mondays.
Today’s a Tuesday but it’s not Margie Tuesday, yet when I finish this blog I’m going to go clean anyway. See?