I Found Jimmy Hoffa
I also found the ark of the covenant, Blackbeard's treasure, Amelia Earhart's plane, and a mortgage payment.
All in my couch.
I pulled the cushions off the couch last night because they had become so totally filthy - which is what happens when you completely abandon all hope of training your dog and you just let her sleep wherever she wants whenever she wants - that I didn't even want to sit on them. Every time I walked by the couch in the last three or four months (HEY! What a coincidence, since school started and I went back to work) I've thought, "I need to clean that couch." But then I remember the forty other things I have to do that take precedence over couch cleaning, beat myself up a little because I can't manage to keep my couch clean, put my head down and keeping pushing on into the wind and through my day.
Last night I rented the steam cleaner from the grocery store, which I then had to clean myself before I used it because whomever rented it before I did chain smoked, had a cat that peed everywhere, and had recently hosted a fish fry for the entire county in which he/she resides. Seriously, what the hell is one doing that makes the carpet cleaner stink to high heaven after it's been used? With soap? And hot water?
But I digress. I pulled the cushions off the couch and
Not really. But it totally could have happened. I found so much stuff jammed into the back and sides of the couch that a monster could have been residing down in there for ages and I never would have known. Plus, the monster would have had ample food supplies given the number of cheerios and jelly beans I found down there so it would be a huge robust monster.
I vacuumed, I steam cleaned the
I couldn't make myself do it well. It's like making the bed in the morning...why bother? I'm only going to get back in it later and who's going to see it in the interim? Hopefully nobody. Unless somebody is breaking into my house and happens to notice my unmade bed as he robs me blind. Which would make that robber pretty damn judgmental for a criminal. Hell, you're a criminal. I'm no criminal, I just don't make my bed, so back off, RobberMan.
If I have lived three years with a couch that was harboring fugitive marbles, breakfast cereal, paper clips, Easter candy, spare change, old receipts, and the odd barrette or rubber band, and nobody suffered much because of it, why make a big deal about rendering the couch to its original pristine state? The dog is only going to keep sleeping on it. Barbie will keep losing her shoes amongst the cushions. And I will keep walking by the couch and badgering myself about keeping it clean, and so by extension keeping my whole house clean, and so by extension making enough time to do all the things I "ought" to be doing, and so by extension balancing my life better, and so by extension being a better person. And so by extension, rendering myself depressed and feeling like I want to crawl under the covers and hide.
It's only a couch. And the monster isn't bothering me unless I bother him.
Posted by Well Read Hostess at 11/17/2009 9:42 AM 
Categories: Keeping it Real,Parent of the Year
Tags: housekeeping Jimmy Hoffa cleaning couch monsters
Categories: Keeping it Real,Parent of the Year
Tags: housekeeping Jimmy Hoffa cleaning couch monsters
Let sleeping couch monsters lie, I say.
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I think you need to curl up on the couch with your dog and take a long extended nap. Maybe even drool a little.
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I thought Bingo ate the couch?
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When did you sneak into my house and look at my couch? The only difference from you is that I have TWO dogs who sleep on it.(It is kinda big.)
Your writing is so enjoyable..great sense of humor.
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did you find my cell phone?
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What? No missing TV remotes? My husband regularly breaks into flop sweat when he can't find his; which is ALWAYS deep in the sofa cushions... I calmly pull it out for him each and every time.
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