I'm certain you were on pins and needles, but here is my nice floor after cleaning with the Shark steamer:
It got so clean it sprouted a kitten! And do you see that little white spot over by the baseboard? That's paint, and who's annoyed with the slobbeldy slob who got paint on my floor before I moved in here? You know I want to sit there and scrape at it, but I have to proofread things today.
Isn't it funny how Henry matches the floor? If he didn't have any white, I'd probably step on him all the time. He's like a little chameleon. Well, really, he'd be a pretty big chameleon.
Also plus, you know how I said I put away all my Christmas decorations the other day?
I got those nice plastic bins for storage, and I crammed everything in there, and then I just had to keep ONE tiny cardboard box to shove a few remaining things (no, the candles did not go in the attic. Those are in a Christmas bag in my closet, and will you remind me of that next December?) (Kind of like how you never remind me to blog about the things I ask you to remind me of, but instead just complain in the comments that I never blogged about whatever?).
Do you have any idea how many TIMES since then that I have found more decorations in this house, and had to traipse back up to that cold, low-beams-that-give-me-concussions-attic? First it was the Santa hand towel in the bathroom. That went easily in the cardboard box. THEN it was the holly-edged kitchen towels that were in the laundry. Crap.
Then that DANG gay porn Santa was glowing merrily on my porch; I had forgotten about him. THAT time I had to reopen one of the plastic bins and navigate his O-mouthed self in.
Finally, last night, I found a nightlight sort of thing in the dining room. It's shaped like a Christmas tree, and when you plug it in, sparkles swirl inside the tree–so pretty! Because the Ice Capades called. Want their subtlety back.
So I unplugged that thing, and using every swear word you have ever heard, jammed it into the cardboard box. "Okay," I thought. "That is IT. I will see you next December, boxes."
This morning I found a little Christmas serving plate under another dish.
And I'd like to thank my MOTHER, who is practically Mrs. Claus, for all these things. She sends me pre-Christmas gifts of Christmas decorations, and then she goes shopping AFTER Christmas and sends me more Christmas things, and I think she only sends me things because HER house is completely loaded with Christmas stuff and probably my stepfather said he'd strangle her with holly if she brought in another thing.
Okay, the thought of my calm stepfather threatening to strangle anyone is killing me. But you don't know him so it's not slaying you like it's slaying me.
You know, I did not mean to get off on this tangent. I meant to write about the running club I'm going to join, but I guess I'll have to discuss that pertinent matter tomorrow.
Also I was going to talk about my new year's resolution, but at this point you have peed down your own leg and missed all of your children's graduation ceremonies.
Does anyone have any new year's resolutions? I mean, other than to get away from this particular post? Do tell.