I'm not cleaning one more inch of my house for the next...oh, two minutes. That will be just about the amount of time it will take Ty to strip down to his diaper, roll around the kitchen in puddles of ketchup, and make a modern art masterpiece by repeatedly slamming his excessively ketchupped body into a freshly Mr. Clean Magic Eraser-ed wall.
We've been waiting for a few sunny days (God bless the Northwest) to be able to get yard work done in order to list our house. And after a ton of help today from family and friends, we'll be ready to get pictures taken and put it on the market on Monday. (The Brooklyn Tabernacle choir just erupted in the Hallelujah Chorus.) THANK YOU again to all that have helped us get our house under control! I've felt like this was going to be a never-ending process.
My friends Natalie and Alison cleaned and "lustered" the cabinets in my kitchen, for which they will receive many crowns in heaven. I believe Alison's exact words were "So...how much of the peanut butter and jelly do the kids actually get in their mouths?" Not enough, my dear friend, not nearly enough.
Her comment actually got me thinking. I'm proposing the idea to Dan that we do a family fast until our house sells. This will eliminate the need to do dishes, cut out about 90% of the messes the kids make, and drastically reduce our time in the bathroom therefore making clean-up much more manageable. Seems reasonable don't you think?
Oops, my two minutes are up. Good thing the boys are asleep for the night. Not that that means anything. I found blood on Ty's pillow yesterday morning. He's got so many bumps and bruises I can't tell what's new anymore, but I think he bit his tongue...probably practicing for his artistic debut: A Tribute To Ketchup And A Warning To Mom's Who Try Hiding It In The Back Of The Fridge.