I'll have to start out by apologizing. I recently set a goal to write a post every week. Well, my last post was on a Friday......and it's Saturday. I know there were dozens upon dozens of highly disappointed readers. Haha. yeah, right. Well better late than never.
I have an excuse. And it's a pretty good one. I couldn't think of anything to write about!!
Well, that's one reason, but the other reason (the bigger one) was that my two youngest kids were sucking me dry for love, attention, food, juice, formula, snuggles, and so on and so forth...... ALL. WEEK. LONG. I barely had time to feed us all and keep us living and breathing. Well when my sister-in-law offered to have the girls over for a sleepover, I was so excited for the break. My hubster was on an overnight camp out trip with a handful of 11 year old boys, so it was just me and my little chubby cheeks boy. I imagined myself lounging on the couch eating ice cream and watching my TV series all by myself without interruption and finishing up the night with a brilliantly funny blog post.
....................crickets chirping..............................okay maybe not.
Then I walked through the door and the condition of my home overcame me. There was a faint aroma that was less than appealing, but not quite identifiable. I couldn't tell if it was coming from a week's worth of dishes in the sink, I don't know how many days of garbage, or when was the last time I cleaned out the fridge? I tiptoed around the house like I was going to sneak up on the stink. *Sniiiiifff*....*sniiiiiiiifffff* ing my way around like a bloodhound. Maybe it was a mixture of the garbage and the diaper pail. During my stench pursuit I tripped over toys, balls, stuffed rhino's, crayons, laundry, and books about birds that say "cheep, cheep" and "how many starfish can you count?" Yes, the very toys, balls, stuffed rhino's, crayons, laundry, and books about birds that say "cheep, cheep" and "how many starfish can you count?" that I asked the girls to pick up before going to their slumber party. In my frustration I could feel it coming.....my nostrils flared, my breathing became faster, my blood pressure rose.....I was catching the fever.
The SCRUB BUG. It happens. It's encompassing, and debilitating and there's nothing that can stop it. Even bed rest. I'm not proud to say I was caught scrubbing my base boards while eight months pregnant and bedridden. That is just an example of how it snatches you. Takes no prisoners.
It all started with the rug. My husband bought me a beautiful area rug for the TV room. I love it. I love to look at it. But where did it go? It was being hidden under piles of toys, balls, stuffed rhino's, crayons, laundry, and books about birds that say "cheep, cheep" and "how many starfish can you count?"
Fully infected, I went straight for the living room. With a twitch in my eye and full tank of gas I found the beautiful area rug once lost and gone. I cleared the toys, picked up the garbage, tossed the diapers, put MORE sippy cups that were hiding from the girls in the sink, and GOOD GREIF, has this sectional couch been here the whole time?! I never would have guessed with all of the laundry concealing it. Sneaky, sneaky.
Because the house plan is somewhat open, my disease spilled over to the sitting room. This shoe box hasn't been cleaned out in months, and only half of them fit the kids anymore. OH. MY. PAW PRINTS!! LOOK AT THIS FLOOR! Where's the broom? After sweeping almost half of the hard floors, I passed the bathroom. The virus morphed into Multi-Room Scrub Bug and I gave in. On my way to get the dust pan, I grabbed a rag and spray bottle for the bathroom. Once satisfied with the progress, I spilled over, yet again, to another room. Perhaps the biggest parasite of the first floor. THE KITCHEN. Dried Spaghettio's on the table, sidewalk chalk sprinkling the tile, more toys, soggy dish rags on the counter, stained rings on the glass top. Yes. It was a perfect host for the Scrub Bug. And it was thriving. In me.
Once all of the obvious symptoms had passed, I suffered from the insanity-inducing side effects. While bending to place a rug after mopping the floor, I spotted the door frame. Dogs have been scratching. Out comes the Magic Eraser. While finishing up the door frame I noticed the side of the kitchen island. Then the dishwasher, then the back door where the Newfie sleeps. Horrific. *Gasp!* Chocolate finger prints! Peanut butter! Cheetos dust! Brownies? When did we have brownies? I circled the perimeter of the room with eraser in hand, working the grime off of the walls. Suddenly, a tickle runs down my face. What's this? I blink my way back into consciousness and touch the sweat on my face. I take a deep breath in, feeling my lungs fill with Lysol air. I exhale as I look over the main floor of our house. It's gone. I'm cured. It's over.
The baby was ready for a bottle again. Where did the time go? I looked at the clock and realized it was time for bed. Another symptom. Time laps.
I still sense a trace of Lysol when I enter the house today, but I like that better than the unidentifiable stench that it has now replaced.
And that's My House in Real Life.
I have an excuse. And it's a pretty good one. I couldn't think of anything to write about!!
Well, that's one reason, but the other reason (the bigger one) was that my two youngest kids were sucking me dry for love, attention, food, juice, formula, snuggles, and so on and so forth...... ALL. WEEK. LONG. I barely had time to feed us all and keep us living and breathing. Well when my sister-in-law offered to have the girls over for a sleepover, I was so excited for the break. My hubster was on an overnight camp out trip with a handful of 11 year old boys, so it was just me and my little chubby cheeks boy. I imagined myself lounging on the couch eating ice cream and watching my TV series all by myself without interruption and finishing up the night with a brilliantly funny blog post.
....................crickets chirping..............................okay maybe not.
Then I walked through the door and the condition of my home overcame me. There was a faint aroma that was less than appealing, but not quite identifiable. I couldn't tell if it was coming from a week's worth of dishes in the sink, I don't know how many days of garbage, or when was the last time I cleaned out the fridge? I tiptoed around the house like I was going to sneak up on the stink. *Sniiiiifff*....*sniiiiiiiifffff* ing my way around like a bloodhound. Maybe it was a mixture of the garbage and the diaper pail. During my stench pursuit I tripped over toys, balls, stuffed rhino's, crayons, laundry, and books about birds that say "cheep, cheep" and "how many starfish can you count?" Yes, the very toys, balls, stuffed rhino's, crayons, laundry, and books about birds that say "cheep, cheep" and "how many starfish can you count?" that I asked the girls to pick up before going to their slumber party. In my frustration I could feel it coming.....my nostrils flared, my breathing became faster, my blood pressure rose.....I was catching the fever.
The SCRUB BUG. It happens. It's encompassing, and debilitating and there's nothing that can stop it. Even bed rest. I'm not proud to say I was caught scrubbing my base boards while eight months pregnant and bedridden. That is just an example of how it snatches you. Takes no prisoners.
It all started with the rug. My husband bought me a beautiful area rug for the TV room. I love it. I love to look at it. But where did it go? It was being hidden under piles of toys, balls, stuffed rhino's, crayons, laundry, and books about birds that say "cheep, cheep" and "how many starfish can you count?"
Fully infected, I went straight for the living room. With a twitch in my eye and full tank of gas I found the beautiful area rug once lost and gone. I cleared the toys, picked up the garbage, tossed the diapers, put MORE sippy cups that were hiding from the girls in the sink, and GOOD GREIF, has this sectional couch been here the whole time?! I never would have guessed with all of the laundry concealing it. Sneaky, sneaky.
Because the house plan is somewhat open, my disease spilled over to the sitting room. This shoe box hasn't been cleaned out in months, and only half of them fit the kids anymore. OH. MY. PAW PRINTS!! LOOK AT THIS FLOOR! Where's the broom? After sweeping almost half of the hard floors, I passed the bathroom. The virus morphed into Multi-Room Scrub Bug and I gave in. On my way to get the dust pan, I grabbed a rag and spray bottle for the bathroom. Once satisfied with the progress, I spilled over, yet again, to another room. Perhaps the biggest parasite of the first floor. THE KITCHEN. Dried Spaghettio's on the table, sidewalk chalk sprinkling the tile, more toys, soggy dish rags on the counter, stained rings on the glass top. Yes. It was a perfect host for the Scrub Bug. And it was thriving. In me.
Once all of the obvious symptoms had passed, I suffered from the insanity-inducing side effects. While bending to place a rug after mopping the floor, I spotted the door frame. Dogs have been scratching. Out comes the Magic Eraser. While finishing up the door frame I noticed the side of the kitchen island. Then the dishwasher, then the back door where the Newfie sleeps. Horrific. *Gasp!* Chocolate finger prints! Peanut butter! Cheetos dust! Brownies? When did we have brownies? I circled the perimeter of the room with eraser in hand, working the grime off of the walls. Suddenly, a tickle runs down my face. What's this? I blink my way back into consciousness and touch the sweat on my face. I take a deep breath in, feeling my lungs fill with Lysol air. I exhale as I look over the main floor of our house. It's gone. I'm cured. It's over.
The baby was ready for a bottle again. Where did the time go? I looked at the clock and realized it was time for bed. Another symptom. Time laps.
I still sense a trace of Lysol when I enter the house today, but I like that better than the unidentifiable stench that it has now replaced.
And that's My House in Real Life.
I'm sorry you caught the Scrub Bug on your quiet night. But if you want a laugh, you should ask Bleu about Casey and "Billy" on their hike...
ReplyDeleteIt was the best night to catch it! No toddlers to trip over or follow me around undoing everything. :)
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