My sweet husband scrubbed the stuff out of my house while we were gone. I mean - - he cleaned it from the tip top to the bottom. He cleaned doors, baseboards, he painted, he cleaned bathrooms, scrubbed the kitchen. He freaking cleaned. The man is a machine. The house smelled pine fresh when I walked in the door. (Oh yeah, he also steam cleaned ALL of the carpets and used the floor mate on all of the tile.)
Number one - - I am shamed that the house was in that shape and needed that sort of cleaning. Everyone talks about how clean our house always is. It's surface clean. He went and deep down cleaned it.
Two - - how sad that this is what he did with his time away from us. I really wish he'd had some fun. I feel bad. I should have had it ready where he could have had some fun.
However - - he is a work-a-holic. A maniac. He doesn't have the art of lounging around down quite like I do.
I say all of this to tell you - - what shall I do whilst I am freaking out during this storm? I unpacked our bags and put everything away already. (That is so not me.) Now, I wait for my sleep meds to kick in and I shall go to sleep.
Quarter-sized hail. Stupid hail.
*yawn*
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