Our house has become the sick house lately. I can’t wait to feel well enough to give it a deep cleaning.
The carpets need to be shampooed because I know there is no way Olivia managed to get every drop of the puke the was expelled from her stomach over the last seven days into the bucket that has been her constant companion.
The kitchen floor needs to be swept and mopped. I think there are still sticky places from there Olivia spilled 7-Up the night she first started vomiting.
The couch and recliner in the living room all need to be sprayed down with an entire bottle of Fabreeze, but only after they’ve been disinfected since Olivia and I spent the entire weekend lying around, asking Tom for frozen Cokes and strawberry ice cream.
I’m lucky that Tom stayed on top of the laundry. Well, on top of it to the point that it’s washed and dried. It still needs to be folded and put away. It’ll happen…eventually. Maybe after my next nap.
All the bathroom floors need to be mopped because I’m pretty sure I managed to throw up in every single one of them at some point during the weekend. And as much as I tried, I probably didn’t managed to aim accurately every single time.
Same goes for the toilets because, yeah, ewwwww.
I want to change the sheets on all the beds just because it feels like we’ve been sick forever and everything needs to be washed just to clear the air in the entire house.
It snowed here yesterday; to the point that the ground was actually covered with snow this morning. When Olivia and I were leaving to go to the doctor yesterday, she looked up at the gray sky that was spitting snow all around us and declared, “What happened? Someone stole our spring!”
Yes indeed, some has stolen our spring. And yet, it’s predicted to reappear tomorrow when the temps are supposed to reach a high of 58. We’ll see.
Until then, we’re going to continue to hunker down in our filthy house and rest just a little longer.