Tonight, Katie and I were in our usual mad rush to get the house ready before company visits. I, as the dutiful husband, was tasked with the dirtiest of dirties - cleaning the bathroom. I got busy with the Lysol and Tilex , cleaned the toilet, changed the trash... all the usuals. Around 5 minutes after being in the bathroom, I realized how strong the fumes were in the bathroom. So, I finished up and left... I didn't realize it until just a few minutes ago how many brain cells had died for the cause of the bathroom's cleanliness.
I jokingly referred to my wife as a swarthy drunkard - never a good idea, married men and my first clue that my brain was working at a sub-standard level. As I thought I was coming out of my stupor, I looked up the definition of swarthy (which I was sure meant hairy). I found that it meant dark-skinned. Unfortunately, one of the very next links in the dictionary referenced a swarthy gerbil. When my axons and dendrites got together on that word, my remaining brain cells caused me to laugh out loud.
So, a word of warning to everyone that's being shamed into cleaning because people are coming to your house. Do not mix cleaning chemicals in a small bathroom. Convert, with me, to housekeeping agnosticism. How can a house ever truly be clean? If a house can never be truly clean, what's the point in trying to clean?
Posted by Jordan at June 4, 2009 9:41 PM | TrackBack