My house looks like all the closets and cupboards had an attack of nausea and vomited their contents all over the floor, after which the Scattering Fairies came wandering through with their blankets and spread miscellaneous tampons, cotton balls, and an entire box of Raisin Bran all over the house. Also used dental floss and half a box of wipies.
Today's project: Move everything to a higher shelf. And by that I mean if you are looking for the toilet paper it's locked in the safe on the top shelf of my closet. Sorry for the inconvenience.
But, in way of good news, I found the little cover that goes over the bolts on the toilet. It was in the family room, having nested itself comfortably in my yet-to-be-folded pile of clean towels and sheets.
I'm guessing the culprit was Little Miss Towel-Obsessed:
It's rather jarring to think that someone so cute just spent time with a piece of toilet tucked in her cheek. Gives new meaning to the phrase "potty mouth."
Really, I should quit blogging and start cleaning. But since David is already full-throttle into busy season at work and won't be home till 11:00 or so, well, who wants to waste quiet time by folding laundry and vacuuming up corn pops? Especially when Michael, who has been completely exhausted from the last few days of late bedtimes and early mornings, actually suggested that he take a nap and asked me to tuck him in bed.
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, I say.
Seriously, don't. There could be a piece of toilet in there.