I'm between a rock and hard place. I have got to do laundry today. No ifs, ands, or buts. But I also have a few errands to run and I'm feeling stupid, so I may take the little ones out for a spin today. I dunno. I'm probably just trying to avoid laundry. I've been known to do that.
Here's my question. How often do you all wash your windows? Once a month? Once a week? Twice a week? If you say every day, I may shoot myself, so keep that in mind. I want to be more conscientious about my housekeeping and washing windows is my bugaboo. Along with mopping, laundry, wiping down walls and doors, making beds, vacuuming...okay, housework in general. Sigh.
So, how often do you wash windows?
Monday, March 03, 2008
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Welcome to My World
It's a crazy one. Here's the guide.
Mr. Clairol: My darling husband and love of my life. He's a mechanic, dyes his hair platinum blond and drives to work on a Vespa. I swear he isn't gay.
Drama Queen: My fourteen year old daughter who is frighteningly brilliant and gorgeous to boot. Of course, I am her mother.
Missy Hoohaw: The four year old daughter. She loves animals and roughhousing and earned her name by being a 28 year old Marine in a preschooler's body. No, she doesn't swear and drink. But she can run twenty miles in the rain and give a mighty Hoo-rah.
Big Red: Our toddler son, who is redheaded and proud of it. He's got a healthy temper and the sweetest smile this side of the Mississippi, so it evens out. I was worried about defending him from his sisters at first. Now, I worry about the girls.
The Beast: Our dog, who is a mutt, heavy on the Great Dane. He's named after a heavy metal guitarist in my husband's all time favorite band. This says it all, believe me.
This is my life. Try not to be too jealous.
Mr. Clairol: My darling husband and love of my life. He's a mechanic, dyes his hair platinum blond and drives to work on a Vespa. I swear he isn't gay.
Drama Queen: My fourteen year old daughter who is frighteningly brilliant and gorgeous to boot. Of course, I am her mother.
Missy Hoohaw: The four year old daughter. She loves animals and roughhousing and earned her name by being a 28 year old Marine in a preschooler's body. No, she doesn't swear and drink. But she can run twenty miles in the rain and give a mighty Hoo-rah.
Big Red: Our toddler son, who is redheaded and proud of it. He's got a healthy temper and the sweetest smile this side of the Mississippi, so it evens out. I was worried about defending him from his sisters at first. Now, I worry about the girls.
The Beast: Our dog, who is a mutt, heavy on the Great Dane. He's named after a heavy metal guitarist in my husband's all time favorite band. This says it all, believe me.
This is my life. Try not to be too jealous.
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4 comments:
Uuummm... every few years? Wicked, bad, I know, but we really do wait until you can barely see out the windows.
When I feel like, and no sooner. Sometimes I look at the same fingerprints and nose streaks for weeks before finally doing something about it. And then I just clean those. Probably once every few months I really clean windows. But only in one room at a time.
I'm not a good one to ask. I am not Martha Stewart.
I've never heard of such a crazy thing. Washing windows. That's ridiculous...
....Eeeeeexcept when company comes over... AND there are chunks of dried-milk-soaked corn flakes on the french doors... THEN, I may have heard of such-a-thing :) But of course, then I have to rent a concrete-breaker-upper-thing...
Uhm, when I just can't stand to see out of them (which is maybe once every year...or two ish.
Well, the front door and windows a little more often, but they are fingerprint zones.
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