Smorgasbord...

I had to mop the floor the old fashioned way today.

A lunch of spaghetti and red jello cemented this fact. As I was down on my knees mopping I had several mental images come to mind:

I am officially Cinderella. I just need the head kerchief and the little birdies tweeting a tune overhead. Well, and the wicked step-sisters and the ball... OK, so it wasn't really perfect for my scenario so I went on to image two.

I wish I could hire a pack of starving chihuahuas to come in here and lick their tongues raw on my grout lines. They are currently looking a little colorful with stains of blue syrup and grape otter-pop juice. I wonder if any of those crazy animal hoarders have ever thought of making an extra buck like that?

How young is too young to teach little men to mop the floors? Perhaps next year? Can a three, two and one-year old make it happen? I think if I really put my mind to it.... Or perhaps I'll invest in these little "Made in China" get ups. :)

OR... I could call the Kirby demonstrator back to our house. I'll profess that I made a mistake by not going Kirby and tell them that I'm ready to buy assuming their fab-o machine works wonders on my tile. I'll of course need a demonstration on my entire kitchen asap. And then I'll run and leave it in the hands of RyGar. Bwah-ha-ha!

Mmmm... maybe I'll stop serving such a colorful little smorgasbord of goodies to my little messy men inside and reserve those delightful delectables for outside meal time only. Yeah, that is probably the most likely of all scenarios.

Dream on, girl. Dream on.