Ahhhhhhhh. A mother's work is never done--especially when it includes animals. You know, Handyman grew up without animals, at all. His brother is very allergic to everything about them. Can't really even touch them. So Handyman, who once got ringworm from holding a barn kitten up against his face at his grandma's farm, wanted animals. In fact, I told the vet I married him because he was one of very few men, like my dad, who loves cats.
The cats begat dogs, and the dogs begat more dogs and then there were chickens and then hooved mammals walked upon the land. And Handyman said that it was good. Seriously, we love 'em and they begat messes that just never end. The great news is that today's paper says that dog owners live longer (on average 3 years longer), so Handyman and I should easily reach 135. Dog owners are also more fit, it says. Probably because they have to bend over to pick up poop and work more hours to pay for the healthy food that begats less mushy poop.
I think this post started on the topic of children, who also begat poop, but I've pretty much outgrown all those issues. Kids just begat mess. I told a friend the other day that my Christmas letter said I consider myself a snake herder. I can never, never, NEVER get it all done at one time. Whatever room I am rescuing leaves 7 more that are in the process of being dismantled. And these kids are the children of a serial remodeler, so they know dismantle-ment. They have seen what a house can be reduced to.
Today's puzzle is put the items in the cabinet where they belong. This particular challenge begins with a simple need for the stick blender chopping head. Now, the motor is in its little container, with cord wrapped and banded (because I put it away). But the chopping end is not. But, while I'm looking for it, I notice that the soup mugs are on every shelf in said cabinet. As I relocate them to the top shelf where they go, I have to move the pyrex measuring cups back to the shelf where they are supposed to be, which means I have to move the juice glasses back to the shelf where they are supposed to be, which means I have to return the rubbermaid things back to the cabinet where they are supposed to be, which means I have to put the bag of pretzels back on the shelf where it is supposed to be, which means I have to put the big jug of popcorn oil back where it is supposed to be, which means I have to put the plastic pitcher back in the cabinet where it came from and then, Handyman hands me the stick blender chopper from the sink.
Now why do I have children unload the dishwasher, you may ask? Exercise--for my body, for my patience and my sense of humor. ;)