Mama's Monday Morning Gripe

It's Monday, again.  I hate Monday.

When I was a kid, Monday was Mom's big cleaning day, and I'm still getting over it.  Bad memories of feather dusters, scrub brushes, and buckets of sudsy water.  They keep me up at night.  Mostly Sunday nights.  Man, old habits never die, do they?  Since the common areas of the house are cleaned and straightened throughout the week, Monday has become my habitual cleaning day.  Well, bathrooms and laundry anyway.  I'm developing a new habit, though.  Instead of disinfecting the bathrooms on Monday, I've been accidentally cleaning the kitchen.  It's totally an accident.  

You see, my circus clowns are oblivious to their surroundings, and their bathroom habits are downright disgusting.  Hubsy shaves and the whiskers cling in a circle around the sink, glued on by dried shaving cream, or soap.  The counter or floor is often dotted with the sprinkling of various facial and body powders.  The downstairs wash room has seen feces on the wall, boogers on the table, and a dead roach that no one would touch for days! 

The bathroom designated for my offspring consistently looks like an episode of Hoarders.  There is a small collection of empty shampoo, conditioner, and body wash bottles in the shower.  There are empty cardboard paper rolls, rolling around on the floor.  The contents of the wastebasket have been spilling out for over for a week, and they just keep piling more stuff on top.  At least they knew enough to use clean towels, which have been draped across the shower curtain rod, although two or three of the old ones are dangling stiffly from the towel bar.  Still. 

So, bathrooms, and the cleaning and disinfecting of them is definitely my main Monday Morning Gripe.  On the up side, laundry day has become an institution, however.  Come Monday... Come rain, come shine, come hell, or high water, by God, that laundry will be done (on earth as it is in Heaven).  In fact, when I spent a day babysitting a friend's toddlers, I took my loads along!  It was laundry day, dammit!  Luckily, my loads have diminished since I gave the high command for the girls to start being responsible for their own clean clothes.  The Boy has been doing his own for years.  The time I save by not doing their laundry, can now be spent reminding and nagging them to do it.  It's brilliant.