Two of our sons have recently moved to Boston, leaving behind them a debris field that would have to be witnessed to be truly appreciated.
To their credit, they did remove mounds of trash and miscellaneous recycling goods (a.k.a. beer bottles) before they left. God bless their little hearts. What they haven't done is ever actually cleaned anything. Even though they THINK they cleaned things. I have discovered that 20-something males consider cleaning to be removing trash and flushing the toilet. Not to worry, I have gained a new skill set, because as I've cleaned, I have refined my use of swear words. I think I could now enter a national competition. Is there a Cursing Olympics? Because I am in!
And because our household has gone from four men (and moi) to two men (and moi), I have taken the opportunity to purge as well.
I do not like either purging or cleaning. I like the results just fine.
I have also (in my spare time) been cursing Gizmo the pug. Who I love dearly, as I do my wonderful (but slovenly) sons.
It's like he's drawing with his pee. He's the Jackson Pollack of pee!
Oh yes, my friends, the Cursing Olympics are in my future.
But in between cursing and cleaning and purging and mowing the lawn I have written some pages and made a few little things:
I have missed chatting with you all, and I'll be by to visit soon. Thank you for checking in with me, you're a lovely group of humans (tidy, too, I'll bet.)
I hope everyone is sitting somewhere comfy, enjoying a nice glass of iced tea, and not hurling expletives around the room with Lysol in one hand and pet stain remover in the other.
Happy summer, all!