...is having to wash the kitchen floor because "someone" stepped in mud while taking the recycling out to the can.
Washing the kitchen floor is a cathartic experience. No, really. Don't look at me like that. Even the girls like the clean of a freshly washed floor, after they realize it's no longer wet. I like to have the door open in the late spring, summer and fall to facilitate the drying. It just feels better, you know.
Then enter winter and early spring. The ground melts and freezes and melts again. That thin veneer of snow from a day ago hasn't melted in the shade of the recycling bin. Step up, open the can, dump the recyclables and come back into the house. It was both feet. Fortunately, I realized I was tracking up the floor before I wandered around the house.
It's way, way too cold to keep the door open once the washing is done. I just sighed and gave some thought to a spray bottle of cleaner and paper towels, but given how I tromped all over the floor, I might as well wash it. Step 1: move everything that's on the kitchen floor to the living room. Step 2: See if the bucket is still okay. Part of the lip broke this summer. Well, I've only had the bucket for 10 years. It's bound to fall apart at some point. Step 3: Sweep the floor and Step 4: scrub it. The girls and I will be happy once it's done, it's just getting to that part.
Maybe I could take the broom and just sweep the mud off...
Beverage: Dr Pepper