How do you keep your house smelling good? Is it open windows? Is it Febreeze? A fan? Removing all children from your house thus removing teenage FUNK stank?
After I wrote yesterday’s post, I cleaned. And I cleaned. And I cleaned. My bedroom smells like bleach. I became one with the Magic Eraser and I went to town on the bathroom.
I’m not a happy cleaner. I’m not one of those Cinderella-birds helping with the cleaning and singing type of cleaners. I am an angry cleaner. I am, the WHOLE time complaining that I am the only one that cleans the shower. I’m pretty sure there is ONE other adult that showers EVERY NIGHT, without fail. I’m pretty sure there are FIVE other people that use my toilet in my bathroom. I’m know I am NOT the only one that uses the sink in my bathroom.
Angry cleaner. VERY ANGRY CLEANER.
After scrubbing soap scum off the shower walls and doors, I am mid dry off and the teenage boy walks in. OHHH MYYYYY FUCCKKKKKKKKKK! GET OUTTTTTTT!
I think he is cured of EVER opening my bedroom door without first knocking. He will also have to be in therapy for it. I might even need therapy.
Today Shea walked in to complain that Marina had ‘unfolded’ something she folded. I turned to her as I was seriously IN THE TOILET cleaning. “Shea, seriously…if what you are complaining about is worse than being IN A TOILET with a gallon of bleach with your eyes burning out, GET THE HELL OUT.”
Shea thought about it, stood there for a good minute as my arm is shoved down the back of a toilet listening to me mumble about how life is so unfair, and she decided that YES, HER PROBLEM WAS WORSE THAN THIS.
“Mom, I folded..”
“Shea, stop.” I did the dramatic blow the hair out of my face. “Here, you take this sponge and you climb behind the toilet and clean up the spider webs, dirt, mold, scum and whatever else that is back there and I will go refold the damn clothes.”
She turned around and left.
Yeah. I thought so.
SPF: YOUR AIR FRESHENER