Hard Labour Day


This Labour Day weekend has been ripe with nothing but…hard labour – housework, grocery shopping, banking and more housework.

I enjoy filing and making lists, sorting items into neat little baskets and arranging books by size. My kids’ closets contain labelled bins and clothes arranged by type and colour. Whenever I’m stressed, I open their closet doors and stare. The order of it all soothes me.

That’s not normal is it? I guess they don’t tack “freak” to the end of neat for nothing.

Being neat however, is not the same as being clean. Beyond the colour coded folders lay epic dust balls and sticky floors.

Lately my attention to housekeeping basics has declined. The combination of a busy schedule, a potty training toddler and fatigue has taken its toll. It’s bad, but not this bad –> “Please Excuse the Mess”

Yesterday as I vacuumed and dusted and sorted and mopped, I noticed my seven year old following behind me. “Are we having a party tonight?” He asked. “No” I replied. He thought for a minute and said, “I just wondered because this (cleaning) isn’t something you usually do.”

Busted. This fall, I vow to have the cleanest house on the block. Or at least the one with the tidiest closets.


A) Cleaning is boring. And tedious. And often icky. To pass the time I listen to loud music while composing to-do lists and blogs in my head. Occasionally, I even come up with a stupid joke or pun to make the kids laugh, i.e. What kind of windows do naked window washers have? Streaky ones.

B) Clearly the toilet bowl cleaner fumes have been getting to me

C) Little kids pee EVERYWHERE

D) A hole in your rubber glove sucks


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