Friends, I can't actually remember the last time I did what I did today. Its been easily more than a year.
I mopped the kitchen floor.
I have talked a lot about the twice-yearly bathroom cleaning, and how I pick up my clothes from the bedroom floor once a week whether I can step over the pile or not, but I have never discussed the kitchen floor.
Like other rooms in my tiny house, my kitchen is also a hallway, and any debris on the bottom of any shoe walking through kisses the kitchen floor. In addition, you have the normal day to day spillage from doing dishes, or dropping spatulas, or toast landing butter side down. I don't want to paint too grim a picture; I do spot clean, and once in a while I drag a dry broom over the floor to move the dust and cat hair around, and its not like I have ants or roaches or flies or mice. (Ok, roaches are a cop out. We don't really have roaches in California. Suck on that, Florida, or other states that have roaches.)
Lately, though, specifically after having our good friends and their three kids over for dinner on Saturday, the floor has looked particularly foul. I had a child-free day today, so after I had dicked around on the computer, watched some reruns, eaten some creamed corn, I decided to either read my book, or mop the floor. God knows why, something strange must have come over me, I decided to mop the floor.
Years ago, Rob mopped the floor on mother's day. Not only did he mop it, but he used one of those Mr. Clean magic erasers on all the scuffs and other things that don't come off with the mop. It was a beautiful thing, and I told him that all I ever wanted for mother's day from that day forward, was for him to clean the kitchen floor. (That way, I knew that the floor would be cleaned at least once a year. I'm always thinkin'!) He actually did it for a year or two after that, but this year he didn't do it. That's how I know that its been over a year since its been cleaned. Isn't it funny that everything in my house only gets cleaned on special occasions? The bathroom on Christmas, the floor on mother's day, my sheets the few times a year after special occasions in the dark...
Let's see if Rob notices when he comes home. He probably wont, and after he's been home two hours I'll finally snark, Haven't you noticed that I cleaned the floor!? And he'll say, lying, I did notice, it looks great! Liar. He's never nearly as impressed with me as I think he should be when I actually clean something. I feel like a deserve a freakin' parade. But not on my clean floor. It has to last 9 month until mother's day.