Me, me, me

Boots

Last week during March Break my kids (well the 2 older ones) helped me out with a "big clean" by doing special jobs. My son volunteered to clean out the hall closet, a waist high pile of odd boots, shoes, bags and rotting food items that fell out of the aforementioned bags long ago. He's a brave boy and I love him.

About 20 minutes into the job he called out "mommy, can you help me here?" and when I went to see him he was sitting on the floor in the center of what looked like about 50 pairs of boots and shoes, all unmatched and looking scrunched. I explained to him that this was the nadir (worst part) of any cleaning job, when you've tackled the mess but haven't yet started to get rid of it. Then I told him what to do next, i.e., separate stuff into piles for throwing out and putting away upstairs and in the basement, etc. He completed the job with amazing thoroughness and did me quite proud, as always.

All this to explain to you, dear readers, why I haven't been posting much. My work situation is such that I am mentally up to my ass in a pile of unmatched boots.