Who says everyday life is not exciting? Why just this morning as I was making my first cup of coffee, I reached in for the jug of 1% and an open can of apple juice fell out of the fridge onto the floor.
I did not notice it a first. (Remember this was the first cup of coffee of the day—it was 5:30 a.m. I can be excused for not noticing a metal can clanking onto the floor, can’t I?) Then I heard the glug, glug, glug of the light amber liquid and saw it spreading across the wood floor, creeping into the cracks.
I am taking this as a sign. A sign that it is time to clean the kitchen. If I looked into someone else’s fridge and saw what I see in my fridge, I would be appalled. But I always think that my dirt is cleaner than other people’s dirt. It is not, but I still think that. I wiped up the spill from the fridge fairly successfully.
I have mopped up the floor several times now, and it is still sticky. Success eludes me. It is uncomfortable under bare feet. My solution? I put on my shoes.