Those 70ish Girls

While begrudgingly cleaning house today, this came to me.

A less than bright idea came to me this morning. It swooped into my head without a word of warning.

Would I take on this daunting task? I wasn’t sure I should. And even if I should, I wasn’t sure I could.

I once was one of those who chased dirt around all day. For Betty Crockers of tomorrow, a dirty house was not okay.

I know I’ve seen my dishes, though where I can’t be sure. Oh yes! I found them yesterday in this thing called a dishwasher.

I made a list for the market of the things we need the most. I noticed this morning that we ran out of toast.

It didn’t take me long, to give up any pretense. It soon became obvious that my cleaning was past tense.

This morning after sweeping, I was going to mop the floor. What color did it used to be? I don’t remember anymore.

I put the dirty mop down to find a feather duster. The feathers must have flown away. My furniture still lacks luster.

I skipped cleaning the bathroom. It would take me one full day, to find places for my “products.” Where I know they’d never stay.

It’s now an hour later, and I really am done in. There is perspiration on my brow. I won’t work this hard again.

My husband came home from work. his shoulders really drooped. He had worked all day long and he was looking pooped.

He recognized the signs and knew what this was all about…For the third time this week, dinner would be takeout.

I put get well cards on the mantel. He asked who they were for. I said our neighbor is bringing cookies. That’s her at the door.

“I must apologize,” I said. My house is such a mess. See all the lovely get well cards? The doctor said to rest.