I had to break down and wash the kitchen floor this morning. I put it off and off again until i can stand it no more.
First I must take the blame for choosing a white floor. A moment of insanity to be sure - but gosh it looks so purty when it sparkles. But I digress.
I'm convinced there is a conspiracy between my cats and my daughter involving that floor. Eliz, for all her amazing and wonderful qualities, is not the tidiest kid in the world. She is a tad sloppy. I often think that her being a very intelligent child - well her mind is on loftier planes... thinking deep thoughts. Not to be cluttered more by thoughts of cleanliness. That sounds like a rationalization doesn't it? Well it is. She just doesn't notice dirt. Thats more being a teenager than having rocket science thoughts. Again - digression. She isn't the tidiest and she is often in a hurry which means spilled juice (orange soda, milk... any liquid). Now, to give her credit, she does clean up the spills she notices - you know- when they spill half the gallon bottle of juice? Okay - she doesn't notice the small splash of juice here and there.
The juice dries. Even the cleaned up juice spills dry but remain slightly sticky.
Enter ... kitties.
My cats have to be the hairiest American Short Haired cats in the U.S. Frankie is my black cat and he has a sleek physique and the most beauteous sleek coat. It shines. He's beautiful and he knows it. And Holly. My mostly companion. She's a fur ball. When we adopted her at 7 months old she had this downy fur I was sure she would lose as she got older. Well she hasn't. She is soft and sweet and that down-y stuff gets everywhere.
Mix fruit punch and fur and you get a nasty kitchen floor.
I'm sitting here typing as the floor dries. Then i will revel in the beauty of my white sparkly floor
................ for maybe an hour if i'm lucky.
.................then the cycle will begin again.
I tell you its a conspiracy