The Time Had Come...

...To scrub the stove top and kitchen sink.




















There comes a time when it must be done.
It can be put off only so long, and then one day when you are planning for guests who have never seen your house, you look at your kitchen with a more discriminating eye.

It's then that you think to yourself,

"My sink IS white, isn't it?"

and maybe,

"Has there always been this much food escaped from the frying pan and imprisoned under the burner grate?"

By this time you are either turning up your nose in disgust, or nodding your head in empathetic understanding. (Or laughing your head off)

I LOVE you understanding ones!

And to the disgusted, I hope you are always able to keep the meticulous standard you currently have (and I cheer you on!).
If not, perhaps you can come read this again in a few years and join the empathetic nods.

It is the ranks of the humble I have joined.
...And the ranks of those who's kitchens are about to sprout legs and sneak out the door.











If you come to my house this weekend, don't look too closely.
I have scrubbed the sink and it IS white...
I have wiped down the stove and it IS black under all that pancake-popcorn-fried egg-spilt oatmeal crust...
The counters will be sparkling, and the floor swept, but mopping?
Nope.
You are bringing your four children, right?

...And YOUR five?

...And YOUR eight?

...And YOUR six?

Your husbands too?















O.k. then.

I'll mop on another day.