There once was a time when I walked past a piece of paper on the floor and kept going. Or when I saw garbage carried by the wind caught in a bush and ignored it. And then I became a homeowner. And a parent.
I used to count on MY mom or dad stopping down to clean up the detritus I left in my wake, and now it is pay back time. I can't walk from one room to another without picking something up and transporting it to its rightful spot - be it the garbage, a toy bin, the sink, the laundry pile.
Actually as I write this I am running a work camp. Both girls are home from school today with various ailments, mostly related to boogers that require mass amounts of soft tissues. LP determined half an hour ago that AK's high chair "smells di'gustin all over" and required cleaning. She then went to the closet that holds our cleaning supplies and got out a Swiffer WetJet for herself (because big sister gets the one that sprays) and a Swiffer Sweeper for AK. I am not sure they are making the house any cleaner, but it is the thought that counts, right?
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