My house is falling apart. Not literally. But the housework keeps piling up and I have very little desire to do anything about it. Wait, scratch that… I do WANT a clean house. I dream of freshly dusted shelves and a spotless floor, of bathrooms with no mysterious stains. I fantasize about how nice it would be to have every dish clean and in its proper place. I toy with the idea of putting out bowls of fresh milk each night in hopes that friendly OCD brownies will scrub everything until it shines while I sleep.

But I don’t, because someone will kick over that bowl of milk without noticing and I’ll be left with a half curdled, half crusty spill to clean up. And therein lies the problem, I seem to be the only one who… not only cleans but… notices the mess building up around us.

I’m just so sick of cleaning.

This would be much easier if everyone would get the hell out of my house. School and work were blessings that I never truly appreciated, because when no one is home, there is no one to mess up the house. Especially with big male feet that drag in extra amounts of dirt, and big male hands that always seem to be sticky (what? why?!), and big male stomachs that seem to be constantly EATING! Wrappers, and dishes, and crumbs, oh my.    

Well, guess what, my dear family? We are all on our second shots. We are almost completely vaccinated! And I know, I know, everyone has gotten very comfortable being homebodies. We’ve got our routines down, and our electronic devices close to hand, and our butt grooves worn in perfectly. But the clock is ticking… AND YOU WILL GET KICKED OUT!

Or… you can get your butts in gear and clean up some crap. It's your choice.

Love, wg

P.S. I promise not to change the locks. Maybe. Bwa ha ha!