Last weekend my sweet hubby and I went on a date. Those of you who have kids and do not live near family know what a big deal this is. I put out a desperate plea on Facebook and some dear friends volunteered to babysit. We planned to leave our house at 6:00. Would you like to know where I was at 5:15? Let's have a little fun with this.
Was I
a) pumping my child full of sugar to make sure we get our money's worth out of the sitter?
b) plucking, applying, shaving, primping and spraying to beautify for the date?
c) elbow deep in toilet water, scrubbing away?
Surely you know it's not a. Money's worth, ha. We can't afford to pay a sitter!
It's definitely not b. Josh saw me during labor and still came back for more. No need to work too hard.
If you guessed c, you're exactly right.
Now, why was I cleaning potties right before our romantic date? Well, for one thing I have ADCD. Attention Deficit Cleaning Disorder. Yes, it's a real thing. Here are the symptoms: I start out picking up the living room, when I take the yellow Lego brick upstairs to Ava's room I notice there are a pair of sandals in her floor, I return the shoes to their rightful place in her closet and notice three pair of shoes that are size 8, she recently grew into a 9 so I go downstairs to get a bag to send to Goodwill, when I open the cabinet under the sink I see the sad state of my cleaning supplies so I promptly remove all the under sink contents and begin arranging them by size and use, about that time a dust bunny brushes by my foot and continues rolling like a West Texas tumbleweed, that can't be good for our asthma so I grab the Dyson and begin vacumming around the cleaning supplies and continue into the living room that is still littered with shoes and toys. It's like the If You Give a Mouse a Cookie book, only sicker. BUT if I only have 45 minutes to do one quick cleaning task I'm a lot more likely to complete the chore instead of starting 32 of them.
Also, cleaning potties is a gross and completely un-fun job. The thought of scraping fecal matter from porcelain on a random Tuesday afternoon is just sad. BUT if you are scrubbing away with a bubble of excitement in your tummy, greatly anticipating an evening of loving with your hubby it's not nearly as dreary. Just make sure to wash your hands with super hot water and antibacterial soap. Go ahead and wash all the way up to your shoulders too because, let's just face it, those bathroom germs are Tyra-Banks-kind-of-Fierce.
And now a word about public bathrooms
If you ever need to 'Go' and you're not near my house right before a date I highly recommend the bathrooms at Pottery Barn Kids. Wow. I would live there if I wouldn't seem like a total creeper. The bathrooms are delicately lit with their darling lamps, smell amazingly like your Cool Aunt's house, and have a stool so you don't have to break your back lifting a 35 pound 3-year-old to the sink. If you can't make it to a Pottery Barn Kids, the regular Pottery Barn also has nice bathrooms - just plan on lifting that kiddo by yourself. Or I guess you could MacGyver some kind of pulley system out of the decorative vase and reed plants on the counter. And if your ghetto mall does not have either of the PBs you should just hold it. Forget everything your mama and doctor ever told you about UTIs and kidney failure. Pee in the grass median of the parking lot. It's just safer that way, trust me.
Was I
a) pumping my child full of sugar to make sure we get our money's worth out of the sitter?
b) plucking, applying, shaving, primping and spraying to beautify for the date?
c) elbow deep in toilet water, scrubbing away?
Surely you know it's not a. Money's worth, ha. We can't afford to pay a sitter!
It's definitely not b. Josh saw me during labor and still came back for more. No need to work too hard.
If you guessed c, you're exactly right.
Now, why was I cleaning potties right before our romantic date? Well, for one thing I have ADCD. Attention Deficit Cleaning Disorder. Yes, it's a real thing. Here are the symptoms: I start out picking up the living room, when I take the yellow Lego brick upstairs to Ava's room I notice there are a pair of sandals in her floor, I return the shoes to their rightful place in her closet and notice three pair of shoes that are size 8, she recently grew into a 9 so I go downstairs to get a bag to send to Goodwill, when I open the cabinet under the sink I see the sad state of my cleaning supplies so I promptly remove all the under sink contents and begin arranging them by size and use, about that time a dust bunny brushes by my foot and continues rolling like a West Texas tumbleweed, that can't be good for our asthma so I grab the Dyson and begin vacumming around the cleaning supplies and continue into the living room that is still littered with shoes and toys. It's like the If You Give a Mouse a Cookie book, only sicker. BUT if I only have 45 minutes to do one quick cleaning task I'm a lot more likely to complete the chore instead of starting 32 of them.
Also, cleaning potties is a gross and completely un-fun job. The thought of scraping fecal matter from porcelain on a random Tuesday afternoon is just sad. BUT if you are scrubbing away with a bubble of excitement in your tummy, greatly anticipating an evening of loving with your hubby it's not nearly as dreary. Just make sure to wash your hands with super hot water and antibacterial soap. Go ahead and wash all the way up to your shoulders too because, let's just face it, those bathroom germs are Tyra-Banks-kind-of-Fierce.
And now a word about public bathrooms
If you ever need to 'Go' and you're not near my house right before a date I highly recommend the bathrooms at Pottery Barn Kids. Wow. I would live there if I wouldn't seem like a total creeper. The bathrooms are delicately lit with their darling lamps, smell amazingly like your Cool Aunt's house, and have a stool so you don't have to break your back lifting a 35 pound 3-year-old to the sink. If you can't make it to a Pottery Barn Kids, the regular Pottery Barn also has nice bathrooms - just plan on lifting that kiddo by yourself. Or I guess you could MacGyver some kind of pulley system out of the decorative vase and reed plants on the counter. And if your ghetto mall does not have either of the PBs you should just hold it. Forget everything your mama and doctor ever told you about UTIs and kidney failure. Pee in the grass median of the parking lot. It's just safer that way, trust me.
Potty humor ;)
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