Housework...PFFT!

I'll tell you what, unless these kids learn a better way to walk than on my floors, they better stay OUTSIDE!  I'm tired of this mess.  It's sweep sweep sweep, mop...no, I don't mop, but I should.  Our socks stick to the floor.

And let's discuss this Aussie and her hair.  She promises she's done shedding. NOT. I don't know how she weighs anything, considering I sweep up her body weight in hair on a daily basis.  And those "Guaranteed to remove the undercoat" combs?   LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE. They should be burned at the stake for those lies.  Or better yet, come to my house and sweep.  Change my sheets, since she likes to sleep ON my pillow.

How would a giant red Aussie look with a poodle-do? 

We live on a gravel road.  That's always fun when you have glass end tables.  "Kids, stop writing 'wash me!' in the dust. It's rude." 

Here's another fun one.... "Take the ducks outside.  I don't care if you wiped their webs, they're still outside animals."  How about this? "No, you can not sleep with your baby....Yes, I know he's a very well mannered horse, but he's still a horse and we have a ply wood floor.  And he's not potty trained.... I know Scooby poops in the house, but he weighs five pounds.  Big difference.  Huge."

I want a maid.

So, back to my story, I swept today.  Timed myself to make it more fun.  (Didn't work.)  Then I mopped.  Timed myself with that too.  That's half an hour of my life I'll never get back.  And the mop, because it was on the back porch, was covered with fire ants.  They BIT me!  Like mopping isn't insulting enough. 

This is why I should never have to clean. I'm going to watch back-to-back episodes of Castle now.