We have came home from vacation about two weeks ago, and the mountain of dirty laundry in my house continues to grow. I believe there will be an avalanche if I add one more little, dirty sock to that pile.
The thing is, I have been doing the laundry; most of the smelly clothes from the trip have been washed, but I still feel like I am fighting a losing battle with that pile of dirty garments. And, let us not speak of the war against the messy, dusty house.
One of the things I missed most about being on vacation was coming back to the room, after breakfast, to find that the beds have been made, the floors have been swept, and there are fresh linens in the bathroom. And then it suddenly occurred to me that my kid must think she is always on vacation! She comes home from school, or the park, and there will be food on the table (sometimes it is even what she asked for); her room has been reasonably tidied; and every once in a while she will get a fresh towel (still working on the laundry thing…).
Sure, I try to get her to help around the house. She is actually very good, and will help tidy her toys, fold her laundry, set the table, and ‘help’ with the cooking. BUT, sometimes it takes me twice as long with her assistant, which I do not usually mind, since we try to make it a game.
So, every once in a while, when I pass the upper limit of my messiness tolerance (or that I really cannot ignore that smell anymore…) I say screw it, and I clean, scrub and wash. And for a while, I push back the tide of griminess.
But for now, the cleaning service in Hotel Home is on strike, until reinforcement arrives, and I get a better benefit package. Or, until that thing in the back of the fridge starts talking to me.
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