And the dust and dog hair were back in less time than it took me to figure out which cord I’d destroyed.
We live in the country, off a dirt/gravel/chat road, with five indoor puppers. I’m not a neat person, and I’m married to a not-neat person. Cleaning is just a pointless Groundhog Day sort of activity.
And I’ve never been a fan of pointless activity (or Groundhog Day, for that matter).
I figure if God had intended me to have a clean house on a daily basis, He would have given me the means to have a live-in housekeeper, or at least let me share in my sister’s housekeeping genes, or He wouldn’t have made things like reading and writing so much more interesting.
Besides, what’s life without a little dust, dirt and dog hair?