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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.