was off work today. Meaning, he took a day off. I volunteer in Hope's class on Mondays. And work from home before and after. Arrived back home after class duty to one shining and spotless home. The smell of stainless steel polish and Pledge were mingling with the smell of my crockpot chicken. Somewhere, June Cleaver was gleaming. And my hubby was obsessing. I followed the sent of Pledge. Wondering what if he wanted a little lunch. I was certain he'd worked up an appetite. What with all the cleaning. And obsessing. But alas, what I got was this:
"Kris, can you cook a lunch that doesn't require using the stove, oven or microwave? I'm good. I had some popcorn earlier"
Seriously. Stainless steal may be the death of me. And the catalyst for therapy for Lee.
I did make lunch on the stove. Carefully. He disappeared to another room. It was too much for him, I think.
I went upstairs to my office and heard a noise. A continual noise. I called for Lee and heard a muffled answer. He was outside on the front porch, touching up the paint around the door. The brush hitting the wood was my "continual noise." Swish. Shwep. Shwep. Swish.
As I retreated to the only messy spot in the house (ie my desk), I did feel compelled to tidy it up. A little. I brought down a few coffee cups. Enough for Mr. Tidybritches to give me a shake of the head and the unspoken, "If you'd just bring them down after you're done, things would always be clean." But I know if it sits long enough, eventually, my Mr. OCD will eventually do it for me.
Welcome to life at 111 Crazy Street. In McCrazyville, USA. The cleanest house on the block.
oye.
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