Let me preface this by saying that cleaning — in and of itself — is not necessarily my idea of finding bliss. I know I’m far from alone on this one. We push through loads of laundry, folding and furiously vacuuming, sweeping — sweating — in a futile attempt to get to some forever-out-of-reach finish line.
Housework for many of us is a necessary evil that interferes with so many other “I’d rather be…” you fill-in-the-blank options of choice. My “I’d rather be” is almost always working out, which is to a fault as my housekeeping over the years has suffered during bouts of marathon training and some serious spin class sessions.
It never fails. I see the mesh hamper gradually filling and OCD sets in. I just can’t let it reach the top! So, time to toss in a load — but there’s no room for the hamper-full…uggh, that means two loads! Now I have to empty the dryer because yesterday was change-the-sheets day, making room for the first load of wash, in anticipation of the second. Wait, wait — what?
There’s danger lurking around the school lunchroom and not where you might be expecting it (cue ominous-looking lunch lady in hairnet). No, this danger comes cutely packaged under the cover of Little Ponies and LOL Dolls, Transformers and Ninja Turtles — it’s your child’s reusable lunch bag, or box if you’re old school.