I know everyone has experienced feelings of futility when doing housework. Dishes are finally washed only to reach even greater heights the next day. The floors are vacuumed and then the toddler decides that her cereal belongs on the floor. Laundry is folded and put away and then the baby's diaper explodes and necessitates the whole cycle to start again. I spent a full hour cleaning. If you have small children you know what an accomplishment that is. And the house looked worse than when I started. Or maybe I simply noticed the stuff that needed to be done that had been hidden by the layer I just cleaned/organized. I am sorely tempted to call Merry Maids and have someone clean my entire domicile. Maybe then I could stay ahead of things until Damm gets back. But who wants to talk about cleaning? It's boring. Thanksgiving and Christmas are around the corner and I'm feeling crafty (the chances of my house ever getting cleaned are dipping lower as I think more on crafty stuff to...
Two of we, plus three of ours, makes five of us.