This shit was free, y'all!
I had this conversation with my husband:
Me: You called? (after 8 years of marriage, pleasantries no longer exist. Plus, I don’t have time.)
Me: Again, you called?
Me: What do you want?
Him: I wanted to let you know I scored free rocks.
Me: What the fuck are you talking about?
Him: I scored free rocks.
Me: I understand what you said. I’m just wondering how the conversation transpired that led you to getting us free rocks.
Him: Well, rock house (note: that’s what we call the house that has their front lawn covered entirely in rocks) was getting rid of some. I was walking the dogs by their house and I saw him loading the rocks into the back of his truck. I asked him what he was doing with them and he said taking them to the landfill. I said that I’d take some off of his hands.
Him: So he put some in a wheelbarrow and wheeled the rocks to our backyard. Now we have all kinds of rocks.
Him: I saved us like $10 or $15!!!
At that point, I didn’t know what else to say. He was so proud of himself for scoring shit we could have found on the ground (also for free) that I didn’t want to burst his bubble. But at the same time, I was astonished that my husband actually convinced someone not only to give us free rocks but to wheel them to our house.
I’m a little jealous of his mad negotiating skillz.
This car is speaking on behalf of my house.
My house is a mess.
Not a mess in the hoarders or CPS is going to come and take my child away because it’s completely uninhabitable sense but a mess enough for me to know that I really, really need to clean it. But I don’t want to. Because I hate cleaning.
I get absolutely no enjoyment out of vacuuming (even though I have a Dyson, which kicks ass!). Sweeping? I don’t even know where the broom is. Dusting is a bigger pain than vacuuming (I’m too short to reach most places and besides, who looks up there anyway?). Picking up toys is a waste of time because they just wind up back on the floor anyway. Mail multiplies like Gremlins fed after midnight. And I don’t clean the bathroom on principle (my husband cleans it. I’ll tell you the story some day if you want). Actually, the only room I clean daily is my kitchen. Dirty dishes and all of that make me kind of nauseaus and bring bugs and I hate bugs more than I hate cleaning.
I’m not really sure why I hate cleaning. It may be because I’m not good at it (yes, it is possible to be bad at cleaning. It’s difficult to achieve, but entirely possible). It may be because I grew up in a house that was immaculate and never really looked lived in and I don’t want my house to look like that. It may be because I’m lazy. Perhaps it’s because I just think I can use my time for things that are more fun than actually cleaning (like writing about why I hate to do it). Maybe it’s a combination of some or all of these factors. All I know is that I hate to do and I’m really jealous of people who either like to do it or pretend they like to do it enough that whenver I walk into their homes, their homes looks beautiful. And sparkly, shiny clean.
You know these people. You’re probably friends with some of them. The people who say “cleaning relaxes me”. The people who have homes that are so damn clean you don’t want to walk on the floor for fear of making it dirty. The homes where you know the 5 second rule can turn into the 5 minute rule and no hair, dust or anything else unsavory would attract to your food. The homes that make you say to yourself “You know, I’m really going to start cleaning my house just as soon as we get home” (is shame not the best motivator?).
I wonder how you get into this secret club of people who enjoy cleaning their house (do you have to get voted in? Do you apply for membership? Do they give you a test, like at the DMV?). Even if they won’t let me in, and, judging by the state of my house, they most certainly would not, I’d really like to know their secrets. Because for me to enjoy cleaning, I’d need to drink a lot of beer. And I’m pretty sure that would make a bigger mess.