I Married Mr. Clean

Mama’s Kat assignment this week had four too many items to choose from. Indecision is my middle name!

So, I thought I’d try to come up with something original of my own. But the summer heat is sucking all the logic out of my brain….

UNTIL

…..my sweet hubby found a spot of mud on a wall in our ½ bath this morning and proceeded to clean it up while trying to get out the door to work. That sparked an idea for a post.

A little background of me first.

I am not Suzy Homemaker. The first time I went to visit my hubby he was merely the father of a friend I was visiting in Albuquerque. During said visit, a little spark that had been sleeping came roaring to life. On my return, I told my sisters about my stay. They laughed (hysterically) and told me I was in trouble.

Cute new hot love interest was MR. CLEAN. I was Ms. Shove it somewhere so it can’t be seen and use lots of Lysol Spray.

My hubby had three towels in his spotless kitchen. A bar towel to dry off the counter tops, stove and refrigerator. A hand towel to dry your hands after getting them wet in the sink. And a dish towel to dry any dishes done by hand. These towels were not to be mixed up. If they were used for anything other than their designated duty they were to be put in the dirty clothes hamper and a new towel used in its place.

I had one towel at my house that I used for everything, and I mean everything!

All items purchased from the grocery store had to be cleaned off before they were put away in the kitchen. All veggies and fruit were scrubbed clean and put in their proper place not just thrown in the crisper in the bag they are brought home in.

When drying clothes they must first be taken out of the washer, shaken and folded and than laid gently in the dryer. (What?!)

The lawn mower and weed whacker both must be cleaned with water and scrubbed after every use. Anything that has cement on it must be swept off including the curbing around the planters.

Every piece of paper must be sitting in its correct place, in it’s correct order. And not on the bar!

He had no stuff! No magazines, no newspapers, no empty pop cans, nothing.

My life was chaos and I was going to date Mr. Super Organized. The man my neighbor now calls the Cleaning Nazi. The man who is like the Energizer Bunny, he just keeps working and working and working. A man who has everything in order, a place for everything and everything in it’s place.

My sisters were right, I was (am) in trouble.

By the way, my baby sister has started a blog of her own….stop by and say hi!