You know that horror movie about the deformed, crazy people that live under the stairs?
This is what lives under our stairs – and it’s just as scary.
Every time I open the door I’m reminded that I haven’t dusted, cleaned, scrubbed or wiped anything to a streak free shine.
It reminds me of the cleaning supply shopping spree I went on that one Saturday when it was raining and I didn’t have the kids with me. How I had planned to come home and clean the house old school. Down on my hands and knees scrubbing – maybe even wearing those yellow dish gloves (which I also bought). I even bought vinegar. Besides salad dressing, I have no idea how to use vinegar.
Then, by the time I had gotten home, there were more pressing needs. Children were hungry and I was expected to feed them. And TV shows needed to be watched. Bravo needs me.
Eventually, like the creepy kids under the stairs, I left these supplies for dead.
I need an exorcism, or maybe just a good maid referral.
p.s. – I almost fixed the cord on the vacuum before taking this picture. But that would be a gross misrepresentation of reality. You’re welcome.