My mom calls it "Cyclone Sunday." I call it hell. I am only posting these pictures because I haven't had any pride in years. It's what I'm counting on to get me into heaven. My lack of pride, not the pictures. Anyway, you really can't appreciate how bad it is (not was, is. Still haven't cleaned it up yet, thought I'd blog about it instead) from the pictures.
The reason we bought a house with such a ginormous kitchen is so I could still have that one small section of counter space to use after Sunday hit.
Do you like that Rylee is still in her nightgown at 2:00 pm on Monday? Ooh, can you see the strip of blue paint I'm experimenting with in the dining room? It's called "Cloudburst." Painting is way more important than cleaning.
Note that we have run out of every plate but one, and all bowls except soup bowls, are dirty. But also note the empty carton of Butterfinger ice cream... On a side note, why do they make the Dreyer's cartons smaller now? Did they think we wouldn't notice?
If only you could see the detail of the crumbs on the floor... Can't wait for next week.
11 comments:
I agree that painting is way more important than cleaning! And better yet...once you are finished painting something it doesn't come unpainted-can't say that about cleaning!!
I would be blogging too to avoid having to clean it up. You aren't alone. I feel like my house has been through a tornado after Sunday.
I always feel the same way on Monday morning (or afternoon)! I like Cloudburst and I love the butterflies in your last post!
What is it about Sundays??? Seriously they are awful. Day of rest- yeah right. You'd think having husband home on those days would mean the opposite.. but apparently not..
I for one definetely noticed the smaller ice cream containers!
glad to see that my house isn't the only one whose house looks like that after Sunday. I hate Mondays for that very reason.
Your kitchen is so pretty- even with crap everywhere!
Umm- yeah- I totally notices the smaller cartons of ice cream.
We call it hurricane jacob and luke, but I think hell is much more fitting.
What happened to the day of rest? My parents' kitchen looks the same after one of my mom's famous sunday meals--not that she's messy, but we all are and there are about 7-8 different dishes included in the meal (most of them with the word "salad" in the title--but not at all healthy).
Weren't you supposed to be in San Diego?
Oh man, I've so been there.
Wow, that could be every day at my house. I feel like 99 percent of my life is cleaning.
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