Thursday, 8 March 2012

My Cinderella Moment ... and not the awesome one!

I had already started cleaning when I took this picture.

   You know that part in Cinderella where she has just had the most wonderful night of her life, and is sighing deeply looking into the eyes of Prince Charming.  For her the world cannot get any better.  Then she hears that stupid clock chime midnight and she knows she has to haul it.  She takes off at break neck speed.  She is hauling it so fast that she does not even know that she lost a shoe!  There is a point when she looks down at her bare feet standing in stinking pumpkins guts, mice are running everywhere and she wonders if it was really worth it.
    I had a not so dissimilar moment this morning as I ventured into my kitchen.  Last night until 9:30 p.m. ( apparently my Fairy Godmother has a curfew) I was the good Cinderella, the one where she's a princess.  Yesterday was so wonderful.  Coffee and danish to greet me.  Dinner was lovingly prepared by my husband.  My parents came, we laughed until I was cried.  I was showered with gifts.  "Don't touch anything, it's your birthday" my husband firmly insisted as I got up to clean up.  My parents came, we all laughed until I cried.  Life was good.  After Mom and Dad left and the kids were tucked in bed, it was our time.  I should say my time, because Christopher fell asleep on the couch at 9:30 p.m.  I sat and watched mindless t.v., then shuffled off to bed.  At no point did I look into the kitchen.
    When I got up this morning and walked into the kitchen, or should I say municipal dump, my jaw dropped.  There was no a single uncovered area.  The dishes were piled a foot everywhere.  The left overs were still on the stove.  It looked like a dirty bomb went off, literally.  Let me take a moment here to qualify that I am by no means a good housekeeper.  I would rather do pretty much anything else but to clean.  I like to sew, to craft, to cook, to cut my own arm off, o.k. maybe the arm being cut off is a little over dramatic, but I am no Martha Stewart.  Anyone who has been to my house will be all too happy to testify to this fact.  However, having said that, it does not usually look like you could expect a rat to scuttle out at any time.
    So I began cleaning dishes, making piles, swearing under my breath.  I now wonder if it was worth it.  I mean I got pretty spoiled rotten yesterday, but.......... I'll let you know after I clean the pumpkin guts off my bare feet.

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