Lately I have been having a hard time getting the house as clean as I like it. Now, don’t get me wrong. I am by no means a clean-freak. The house is never spotless, even when we’re planning to have guests. and although I’m feeling some aspects of the nesting instinct, that rears its head more with clutter and organization than with scrubbing toilets and ovens. In an act of desperation, I asked a wonderful housekeeper to give our house a good scrub on Tuesday. She has been cleaning my parent’s home since I was in high school, and has a few of my friends as regular clients. I was thrilled to come home Tuesday to a house that smelled like clean.
Fast forward to Thursday. Around 4:30 p.m., The Man calls. Our conversation went something like this:
Man: “Um Lain…I just walked into something I don’t know what to do with.”
M: “I seriously don’t konw what to do”
M: “Lain. The house is literally covered in shit”
L: “Literally? or….”
M: “Yes, literally. one of the dogs is sick.”
Turns out one of our lovely pups had a stomach bug or ate something funky. Lets just say that when I got home from work at 6:15 p.m., The Man was still scrubbing the kitchen floor.
A lot of scrubbing, mopping and Lysol later, the house stopped smelling like poo and was once again gleaming with clean smell. A twice a week deep clean of this house is EXACTLY what I need. But this was not what I had in mind!
The silver lining, you ask?
a lot of mess was contained on our dining room area rug. It’d been looking kind of grubby lately, and well…. yeah, we’re getting a new one. Nothing like a brand spanking new rug to welcome baby!
(and in case you were wondering, the pups are fine. I think it was Lacey, since she got up with me to go outside during my regular middle of the night bathroom break on Wednesday)