I have been rather remiss not mentioning my lovely husband Drew, the real domestic god of our household, before now. This is probably due to subconscious resentment that he is a cleaning whiz whilst I have absolutely no talent in this area.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not a slob...I love things to be tidy and in their place but I just don't have the eye for detail that real clean freaks have. The Dirtinator does. In spades. And it's looking likely that at least one of our daughters has inherited his OCD tendencies...last night she hopped out of the shower to straighten the bathmat because one of the corners was folded under. I foresee trouble ahead.
My darling Dirtinator makes up for my lack of cleaning nouse by giving the house a once over every Saturday - filling me with a strange mix of gratitude and guilt. Here he is in action this afternoon...
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