My parents are staying with us this weekend to celebrate Fathers' Day. I am beside myself with excitement. I miss them and can't wait to give them a little getaway that they deserve so much. It feels good (or I suppose it would feel good) to be the one hosting and taking care of your parents for a little bit. They've done so much for me and my family; it feels nice to treat them.
So I'm doing some mild cleaning. Well, it's mild cleaning that evolved into, "Dude, I've never looked under there. That is disgusting." So that turns into an hour. And then that turns into, "ooh, look how shiny it gets when I do this," which of course, you know...well, yeah, it's not mild cleaning. Not anymore.
I'm cutting myself off, though. When I get on a roll, I start getting way too ambitious. I just hesitantly crossed "dig up beds around shrubs out front" off my list. Seriously. I need to settle down. "Dishes" and "birthday party" and "fold laundry" are acceptable to-do items during the last day before guests arrive. "Dig up beds around shrubs out front" among 13 other things, however, is not.
I am getting saner by the minute.
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