We cleaned the house we’re moving out of today. What a complete and utter pain in the ass. I never thought we were particularly messy people, but oh, what surprises await you when you haven’t cleaned behind or underneath something for 7 years. Big thanks to my mom for helping me today. Made a full day’s work get done in 6 hours or so.
I’ve never been much of a cleaner. That is until I married my husband. After 13 years of living with a neat freak, you tend to learn to tidy up a bit. One thing I’ve noticed is that the closer you get to things, the dirtier they look. Also, once you start cleaning, it’s hard to find a place to stop. So, I stood up a lot instead of getting on my hands and knees to stay further away. I also decided when it was time to just be done. No matter how clean I think it is, I’m sure the new owners will go in and clean it all again anyway. I kept thinking “this is the last time I’ll mop this floor” or “this is the last time I’ll scrub this toilet”. I did take the opportunity to nag my son about hitting the toilet bowl one last time. In this house anyway.
Night two in the camper tonight. The puppy is in a kennel so I won’t stress about him having an accident. If his whining would just stop we could all sleep in peace!
I’ve said no less than 237 times this past week that I’m never moving again. I’m pretty sure I’m not being dramatic and that I mean it. Next time I move, it’ll be to the old folk’s home and I won’t be doing it, my kids will. I figure I moved then into this world, moved them twice as kids, will move them into their college dorm, possibly help them move a couple times as adults…the least they can do is move me when I’m an old fart.