Mopping It Up

I'm cleaning our house.

Not the 'tidy up, dust and sweep type' of cleaning. The 'can you eat off of the baseboards' type of cleaning.

Why? Because our social worker is coming for a visit to update our homestudy. Yes, our eligibility to adopt is about to expire. And even though it will expire again before we're all said and done, I just can't let it lapse. It's important to me to be able to adopt at any moment, even if our moment is still several years in the future.

So, I'm cleaning my house from top to bottom. Well, from top to...lower middle. I don't mop. I can perform pretty much any other type of housework, some of it quite well, but I don't mop.

When I first met D., we were working together at an ice cream parlor. Every night at closing, the shop floor involved two jobs to get it clean - one person had to get down on their hands and knees and scrape all of the chocolate bits and spilled ice cream off of the floor, while the second employee came behind them and mopped it all up. I used to cajole, trade duties, and sometimes bribe fellow employees to mop the floor for me when it was my turn. Needless to say, when you are 15 and trying to get someone to go out with you, D. did a lot of mopping. We got laminate wood floors earlier this year. Twenty-one years after we met, and D. still does a lot of mopping.

It's a good thing I'm an expert at folding laundry....