I don't like cleaning. Hate it, in fact. And as much as I would like to get organized and invite the Fly Lady or Martha Stewart or my neighbor over to help get the process moving along, it's pointless.
For example, this morning I began the routine pickup of items that have no business being anywhere outside the toybox. Scooped up a Pokemon, five marbles, the Connect Four pieces, books, a stethoscope, a cement mixer, a train, 15 Bakugan, 432 Pokemon trading cards and you'd think I'd have a floor.
But no. Because no sooner did I dump that lot into a toy box, I turned around and saw that Paul had systematically followed me around, placing Handy Manny's tools, 6 more Bakugan, fake food, books, the game pieces to Trouble, superheros and a light saber in the path of my cleanliness.
Sigh.
"I hewp you, Mawma." As he opens up a pencil sharpener, not to see what's inside because it's clear and you can see that it's full of pencil shavings. No, he opens it because he can. "I hewp you." And I hand him the little broom and dustpan and he dutifully sweeps up 3 shavings and looks at me. "You hewp me, Mawma?"
Why yes, I'd love to help. You want to dump some red Koolaid on the floor too? It's not like we have anything else to do.
Yup, today is National Sarcasm Day.
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