... I dreaded the weekends growing up. Not because I loved school so much I never wanted to leave, but because every Saturday was cleaning day at my house. I hated cleaning! I always tried to get the easiest jobs and then did them as quickly as possible. I have to admit, I did a pretty half-baked job most of the time. Sorry Momma.
I was always afraid of having my own house, because I just knew I would never clean it. With no one to boss me around and force me to clean, my house would spiral into a filthy, messy den of iniquity. (Okay, maybe not the iniquity part, but definitely the filthy messy.)
But this Saturday (Saturdays have turned into my cleaning day too. I guess old habits die hard, or maybe I just don't have time to clean any other day of the week?) as I was rocking out to my favorite girly tunes and toothbrush scrubbing my kitchen sink, in my old scrubs with my hair pulled up in a handkerchief (literally), I came to the startling realization that I was actually enjoying myself.
What? Enjoy housecleaning? What had changed? Nothing, really. Except for the fact that I was cleaning my house, my home, and that made all the difference. What a difference a sense of ownership makes!
1 comment:
I'm obsessed with cleaning! I like to keep it clean because it's so small that it looks all ugly if it doesn't stay clean.
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