Monday

is generally cleaning day. I have been so busy with company and work and such the last couple of weeks that the cleaning has been a bit neglected.

Don't get me wrong, I dusted, vaccumed and scrubbed the bathroom quite frequently. After all, there were people here. But, I didn't get around to my favorite part.

Mopping.

I love cleaning day. I know that is crazy. I know that I am not suppose to. I know that I might be alienating myself in saying that. I am even expecting a few "you can come clean my house" comments, which unfortunately are never really sincere (unless you are Susan). I have offered many the new-mom a clean house and no one is brave enough to show me their dirt (unless, of course, you are Susan).

The best part of cleaning is the whole before-after sense of satisfaction. I love the "look what I did" part. I also love the calm that a clean house...um, apartment, instills. You can rest: there is nothing to pick up, no little spot is bothering you anymore, no yuck on the bathroom floor. What better shows off the before-after effect than mopping?

Mopping smells good. Mopping is funny and slippery. Mopping means you are almost done. Mopping makes the floors all shiney. What's not to love?

Not only that, Andrew is no longer tempted to knock over the mop bucket, or eat the suds, or drop things into it!

If only he didn't have new tricks to make up for that.