Though in all likelihood you will never see this letter, I want you to know I watch your show regularly. Your perfect comic timing and self deprecation provide me endless amusement.
This amusement is something I need desperately for, you see, I find myself stressed out by dirty situations on a fairly continual basis.
Examples from my week have been:
Dog poo and pee on the rug in my living room (she squatted right in front of me, and when I yelled, she ran, but the poop kept coming. So it wound up in more than one “neat” little spot.
Half a container of mandarin oranges in the bathroom sink, along with poo smeared on the toilet seat, shredded toilet paper all over the floor and pee and poo encrusted toddler sized panties on the floor (this would be my filthy 4 year old, Neve at her not quite grossest. She also specializes in destruction – like after she swiped her older sister’s school scisssors and my blue sharpie last night and had a grand old time with them in her bedroom)
Makeup manufactured specifically for children (I still don’t quite understand that) that is neither discreet in color nor “washable” as it is labeled – my 8 year old’s bright, horrendous “whore blue” eyeshadow all over the upstairs bathroom’s
floor, along with her “streetwalker red” lipstick smeared on the sink. And more pee soaked 4 year old panties. The only reason there wasn’t also huge dried globs of toothpaste all over the sink (and mirror, for some reason) is that I took their toothpaste away.
A sink full of dirty dishes that no one has bothered to scrape the food from, allowing them to emit quite a lovely and appetizing odor for the fruit flies, which have set up camp in my kitchen drains.
An overflowing garbage can that both older girls decided was too much trouble to be bothered with, and that the floor next to was better suited for their old tissues and napkins.
Dog poo all over the gravel driveway, because the damn dog has decided she’d rather go there than in the grass where she’s supposed to go.
Kitty litter in the shower – it gets caught in their paws, and they like to go in the shower when I am done so they can drink the water around the drain.
Some sort of liquified vegetable in the fridge. I didn’t try too hard to identify it.
Huge piles of used coffee single serve “K-cups”, because my husband likes to cut them open and dump out the used coffee grounds for compost, except that he lets them pile up to mammoth proportions all over the counter until they are moldy first.
That’s all in the last 4 days or so. And keep in mind that does not include the poopy diapers the baby produces daily. Have I tried to keep my house clean and sanitized? Yes. Diligently. Am I still afraid of what it looks like under my couch cushions and even worse, under the couch? Definitely. I have all but given up on ever having a clean house again. I can spend an entire day and barely scratch the surface of it. And then they’ll make an even grander mess once I am done anyway.
I am, more or less, a mother at her wit’s end, because taking care of my family? It’s a dirty job.