Flylady I'm Not

Because if I WAS Flylady, I wouldn't be racing around like a maniac trying to clean my house before my in-laws get here. Now, I LOVE my inlaws. And I'm not saying that because they might read this- they won't. They aren't computer savy enough to work an ipod shuffle, so I'm pretty sure they won't ever see this blog (but just in case you ARE reading this, S and B, I know it's because the Scientist showed it to you and I will be dealing with him LATER). I have digressed. I do love them and know that if they did read this they would tell me not to be silly. No cleaning required for them. But I do suppose that if they have to sleep on the bottom bunk (I'm not kidding, so stop laughing. At least it is a double and not a twin), they would at least like sheets that don't smell like little-boy-too-tired-for-a-bath, yes? And as long as I'm going to the trouble of changing sheets on a bunk bed (crib sheet changes have nothing on bunkbed sheet changes, by the way), I might as well give the bathroom a little once over. And the kitchen floor too- lest they notice that there is more food on the floor than in the fridge.

As I am cleaning, I am thinking fondly of The Most Wonderful Woman In The World and wishing she were here. Mom, I love you dearly and boy, can you clean an oven (even if you refuse to understand that it is S-E-L-F C-L-E-A-N-I-N-G). You can also scrub a fridge within an inch of it's life (a very necessary task for you to do since I am clearly under the delusion that it too, is self-cleaning). But, in this case, I am not talking about you. I'm talking about my blessed and beloved cleaning lady. I do NOT have a cleaning lady life. I stressed this morning about whether or not to pony up the extra $20 to get Two Fish (as in my second fishy- a four year old boy) into an extra day of lunch bunch today so I could sit around and blog about how much I need to clean my house. The moola for The Most Wonderful Woman does not come easily. I will give up shee-shee coffees for her if need be. I only have her for two hours every other week and if she ever went homeless, I would kick one of my children out of their room so that she could live here. Now, the most wonderful thing about her is that she is so trustworthy and I can leave the house and let her work her magic and just come back a few hours later to the fabulous smell that can best be described as "Lemony Delicousness." Really, if she could just make my house smell like that, she could probably sit around and watch The View the whole time I'm gone and I wouldn't even notice that the house was still filthy because it smelled so clean.

So, if I ever get done raising children, perhaps I should make a candle that smells like "My Cleaning Lady Just Came and My House Is An Abode Of Lemony Delicousness." Then I wouldn't ever have to clean again. I'd charge a fortune for them and I bet you'd all be happy to pay it because just smelling it would make you believe that all was well with the world.

If you're confused about who the heck flylady is, just google it and you will be instantly overwhelmed at how dirty and disorganized your house is and how simple she makes it sound to remedy the situation. Clemsongirl, I am OBVIOUSLY not talking about you, so no snarky "I'm so damn organized comments, please..."