I swear I feel as though today is just a repeat of yesterday! Maybe not as much to do, but the same shit to do, none the less.
Yesterday was spent cleaning. Everything except for the master bedroom and bathroom. Unfortunately, I'm still not working on those rooms today either. Instead, I am cleaning the kitchen, and possibly washing some more clothes. Seems as though everybody wants to have clean clothes, and of course the ones they want cleaned are not in the 10 loads I have already done this week. I think everybody in this house needs 7 pairs of pants, 7 underwear, 7 pairs of socks, 7 pairs of shorts, and 14 shirts. Period. Again, I am not bitching, simply because I am blessed enough to be able to stay home, and I guess in reality, it's my own fault...to an extent. Plus, the hubs worked yesterday until 3 and he cooked dinner last night. Fried chicken. Yum.
In our kitchen we have an island. I love the island. It is what really made me want to move here. Now, the island has become my worst nightmare. Just like a fucking coffee table, or night stand, or dresser, or end table, or dinning room table or....you get the point. It collects everything. When you walk in the front door you go right to the island and set everything. Phones, kindles, chargers, ear buds, nuts, bolts, screws, change, and whatever else you may have in your hands, lunchbox, and pockets. Well, maybe not so much the pockets because that shit usually comes out in the washer, unless it is a crayon, and then it comes out in the dryer.
Anyway, being as that K and I cleaned up really well yesterday, and the island was clean and clear, (except for my John Deere stuff that belongs there) I told the hubs he should just plug the electric skillet up on the island and cook there. Great idea! More room to work, ya know? So he does just that. Plugs the skillet up, gets the glass pan that we use when we roll stuff in flour. Fills it with flour, seasons the flour, seasons the chicken, gets a cookie sheet out and lines it with paper towels, (for the cooked chicken) and he proceeds to cook. I cooked the mashed potatoes. That was hard work I tell ya. (we had instant)
We eat dinner, he puts the leftovers in bowls and puts them in the fridge. He is weird. He likes cold fried chicken, and takes it for lunch. Around 10 last night, the hubs asks me to wash him some pants for work. I gave him a hard time about it, because it was 10 o'clock, but I was just messing with him. I knew he was about to go to bed, and he ALWAYS wants me to go to bed at the same time, and I was not sleepy. I get a load of jeans started in the wash, and he goes to bed. I'm watching some tv, waiting for the dryer to finish so I can put the jeans in the dryer. After I do all of that, I take a look at the kitchen and think to myself, "What the hell? I'll clean it up tomorrow, it won't be a big deal." I notice there is a chicken leg bone on the cookie sheet and I put it in the trash, and push the chairs in around the dinner table, move the extra chair that K drags around the kitchen so that she can reach things, and that the hubs sometimes sits in while he is cooking. When I say I moved it, I mean I moved it away from the island, and away from the little table that is in front of the island.
Here is what I am bitching about. Apparently, at some point, someone let the dogs out of D's room, moved the chair back closer to the island, and when I got up this morning and walked into the kitchen, all I could see was greasy paw prints all over the counter top to the island! Really? I guess I let that set my mood for the day. Maybe. I dunno yet. I do know that I am so sick of these little piss ant dogs that my kids have, that I could just punt them out the damn door, most of the time. I am just thankful that I thought to throw the damn chicken bone away. Ugh.
So, now I guess I will get off of here and get busy on the kitchen, and then maybe take the kids to the pool, and then later start getting stuff ready to go to the beach tomorrow with our friends!