If you want to eat off my floors...

...you should come over this week. I've never seen them cleaner.

On Friday afternoon, I mopped my kitchen and dining room floors. A few hours later, I accidentally knocked a glass baby bottle off the bookshelf and it shattered all over the kitchen floor. I picked up glass shards. I swept up glass shards. I went back over the floor with a whisk broom and dustpan. Then I mopped.

On Saturday morning, I picked up a few crumbs under the dining room table after breakfast and called it good. That evening after dinner, we were clearing the table when a bull (also known Brennan) came charging through the room at top speed, knocked into Tim, and sent two plates, a small bowl, and a glass crashing to the floor. Surprisingly, the one breakable plate survived the fall. Sadly, the glass did not.

We picked up glass shards. I swept up glass shards. My father-in-law tried to vacuum up glass. I ended up on my hands and knees with the whisk broom again. Then I mopped.

Late last night, I happened to think about how it had been more than 24 hours since I mopped the floors...

I came in from picking Addison up after a movie and started fixing the bag for Lauren's feeding pump. As I did so, I was pinching a certain spot on the tubing with one hand while pushing down on a full bag of formula with the other hand. The top of the bag came off and at least 8 ounces of vanilla Pediasure shot across the kitchen counter and landed on the floor.

I love mopping the floor at midnight.

Anyone want to join me for breakfast served on the tile floor this morning? Don't worry if you spill something, I'll probably be mopping today anyway.