BAREFOOT IN THE KITCHEN

I learned a long time ago that the best way to dish out punishment to children was to assign them cleaning duty. Although it made them mad at me, at least I got my cupboards cleaned. Grounding children not only makes them mad at you, but you get stuck babysitting. However, there are no children residents in my house right now. So I have been going through each of my kitchen cupboards over the past weeks to scrub and discard. Bleeech. I even had Hubby help me drag out the fridge so I could destroy the hairball monster and the slime lady that were living together there. The result was a kitchen floor that would pull your socks off. Bleeeeeeech. This floor is supposed to be “no-wax,” but it has taken a beating over the years. So I put on the wax, and then I have to strip it off every year or so when it turns gray. I use ammonia, which is great for the sinuses, (sarcasm here) and this time there was some elbow grease involved. It took most of the afternoon, and then both Hubby and I had places to go.

I told Hubby, since I would get home first, that I was going put down new wax. He was thinking food and was wondering if I would have things done so he could get to the fridge when he came in. I promised, yes. Then I realized I did not have enough wax to do the whole job. Finished evening meeting. Bought more wax. Put down a thin layer (still in my high heels) and had it dry before the man came home. In the middle of the night I woke up (I always wake up anyway) put down another layer of wax and slipped into bed. Hubby woke up and headed for the bathroom. Oh, No! What if he goes in the kitchen?! Should I yell, “Stay out of the kitchen!?” or just hope he does. I kept quiet. There was a flushing sound and he crawled into bed. I don’t think he even woke up. This morning I walked barefoot in the kitchen and enjoyed it.