Clean Floor Curse
Posted November 15, 2013 by Prairie Wife - 1 comment
There are fewer things in this world that make me happier than a freshly swept and mopped floor. I need to get out more right? But I can’t help it, I get such a feeling of accomplishment when I sit at the counter with a cup of tea and gaze out upon the smooth, shiny, surface of my gleaming floors. Maybe it’s because it is the final step in my weekly, hours long, cleaning push. A clean floor means my major cleaning jobs (for the most part) are done for a week. For those of you that are shaking your heads at the fact that I only clean once a week let me clarify.
The Cowboy has a job that usually keeps him gone Monday through Thursday evening, sometimes even until Friday. As a weekday “single” mother of four Cowkids I have learned how to take advantage of this by only cleaning once a week. My kids all know that Wednesday night is house cleaning night. We get all the toys in the whole house picked up and all the laundry (yes I know wash day is Sunday/Monday) finally put away. Then Thursday I dust (O.K. every other Thursday for dusting), vacuum, sweep, mop and scrub the bathrooms. When the Cowboy comes home the house, kids, and his wife are all sparkling clean. As far as The Cowboy knows, the Prairie Homestead was like that all week long. It also allows me to enjoy the weekend together as a family without feeling pressured to waste precious time cleaning. Of course I have to keep up on the kitchen and trash all week long, but that’s totally manageable! Now that I have justified my cleaning routine to a bunch of strangers I will continue with my rant…
So last Thursday I had just sat down to enjoy my clean floor zen when Cowboy W walks into the kitchen and says “Don’t worry mom, I got it. I took care of it!” Now in our house hearing those words is an immediate cause for concern. When Cowboy J did something wrong he would cover his eyes with his hands and stand until you happened to see him. Cowgirl G just did whatever she wanted and dealt with the punishments when they happened. Cowboy W, in a typical middle child way, tries to take care of the problem himself or simply assure you that nothing is really wrong.
I promptly put down my tea and asked Cowboy W to explain what exactly was O.K? It turns out, in true three year old boy fashion, he had gotten distracted during his bathroom break and peed all over the bathroom floor. The clean floor curse strikes again! While I appreciate that he used the whole roll of toilet paper to try and clean up the mess, it took all my self control to not lose my cool. I mean really, I had just mopped it less than five minutes ago! I had him wash his hands and used my handy dandy bleach wipes to finish cleaning the floor. I then took a deep breath and gave him a kiss on his strawberry blond head and sent him back to his room to play with his horses and cars.
I sat down and looked at Cowbaby contentedly playing on the rug with his toys. I took a few sips of my now slightly tepid tea, and let my blood pressure slowly go down. Just when I had logged into Pinterest to do a little pinning; Cowbaby made that particular noise that means he was in the need of a prompt diaper change, if not a bath. I sighed and picked him up and headed down the hall to the nursery. As I was gently talking to him about his poor timing I suddenly felt something cold and gooey between my toes. I said an inappropriate word very loudly (which Cowbaby found hilarious) and looked down at the pile of cat barf I had just stepped in. It seems that Prairie Cat Toby had overindulged during breakfast and couldn’t make it outside in time.
At this point I gave up, hopped into the baby’s room and cleaned off my foot and his butt with baby wipes. I went back to the scene of the crime and cleaned up the cat barf. As I drank my cold tea I simply let out one long sigh. When The Cowboy came in later that evening and tromped around the house for a full 30 minutes before realizing that he hadn’t taken off his boots, I didn’t even bat an eye. And when Cowboy W spilled his milk no less than 3 times at dinner I simply put the roll of paper towels next to his seat.
A mother’s work is never done, and when it is, it promptly starts back up again.