Before we had kids, this wouldn't have been such a big deal...besides the fact that Oprah Winfrey knocked on your door.
Our house would have been halfway decent with no food on the floor...or walls...or ceiling. She would've been able to sit down and relax without getting yogurt or spaghetti sauce on her pants. I would have even been able to offer her a cup of tea or coffee in something other than a Disney mug.
Our windows would've been clean, our laundry done. No dishes would have filled the sink and the warm scent of candles would've lofted through our house.
She could have gone to the bathroom without needing a hazmat suit after three little boys had swashbuckling "sword fights" or played Star Wars with their light sabers. (Luke Skywalker always wins.)
Well, now the kids and cat and dog have all signed some secret pact in chocolate pudding, to completely seek and destroy every possible square inch of our house (and car). So now, Oprah wouldn't find a pristine house...but she would find a wild and happy home...where she could have herself a cup of hot chocolate in a Minnie Mouse mug.
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