My son asked me last night, while I was tucking him into bed, "Mom? Are you ever going to clean the house again?"
I quickly refrained myself from the habitual bitch-slap and went for the much calmer, "I know, honey. It's been a little bit crazy around here lately."

"Yeah, 'cause it's pretty messy."

I'll get right on it, Sweetie. My passion in life is to clean up your shit. Could you leave a few extra stuffed animals on the couch tomorrow and maybe place a single slipper half under the chair, just so I have something to do in the morning? Thanks. That along with the crayons stuck to the dining room floor, the heavy layer of toothpaste cement pile-up in the sink, and the 140 half-open boxes of Cheetzits, I should have a full day ahead of me.

We had a little run-in with our basement two weeks ago, which derailed our fast moving train of renovations much like the crunch of two Rams locking antlers during mating season. Long story very short, we screwed up our new basement floor with a concoction of acid stains and bad poly. It looks like my 8-year-old took her white acrylic paint and streaked the floor with random brush strokes in a fit of pre-tween rebellion. Then the brush strokes turned to super glue. It's a hideously awful task to remove it.

We also lost a very dear friend of the family, which is always hard. And there's just nothing funny about that.

So, cleaning wasn't high on the list these past few weeks, and the crap has sufficiently mounted up enough for my 9-year-old son to notice. Which is a lot. I guess it's hard to miss when there's an assortment of 47 shoes mixed with several umbrellas hog-piled by the front door, dust in every orifice know to man, burnt logs rotting in the fireplace, and a porch full of basement. Not to mention the kids have been sleeping in sand for a month and a spot check of windex on the kitchen floor doesn't even come close to unlayering the filth.

So, I'm cleaning.

But it's okay, since the sun is out and I bought a new bike. My first bike in 15 years. They now come with all these bells and whistles, which weren't even a whisper of a thought when I bought my old bike. My seat now has shocks so my ass is comfy. Awesome. It's a Trek and I love it. It has skinnier tires than my old mountain bike, so I feel like Lance whipping down the pavement. I went biking twice in 3 days and as I clean my house my hamstrings are yelling, "Well, what did you expect?? You sat around for the entire winter reading vampire romances while stuffing your face with candy, when you get on a bike for the first time it's gonna HURT a little."

Or a lot.

It was almost 80 degrees yesterday. That's a MN miracle right there. I'm going to go finish chiseling the syrup off the chair legs and go sit in the sun. I hope everyone has a glorious week.

Tom, we will miss you.

www.zupho.com
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