The Chocolate that Didn’t Melt in my Mouth

This is an absolutely true story.  I won’t even try to disguise it…if you know me, you know this is totally me.

I have never been a fan of cleaning.  Although I love a neat and tidy house, I’m just not good at making it happen.  Mom tried.  Really she did.  She taught me most of the right things.  (She didn’t teach me as much about laundry because she liked doing it herself.  I did however learn how to hand clothes on the clothesline and collect them when they were frozen stiff. Ugh.)

Hubby left subtle and not so subtle hints, and before any one says what is wrong with him helping, let me tell you he did help, and well as working 40+ hours a week outside the home.  The thing is, I don’t mind working.  I just prefer working outside.  Or working on a project.  One year I negotiated with my parents to let me do the gardening instead of the inside chores.  That was one of my favorite years. The sense of accomplishment and joy is still a vibrant memory.

Now my loving hubby tries to do as much as he can to help with the housework since he is retired and I still work part-time.  I really appreciate his efforts.  He also makes sure I have time to work on projects.   What a keeper!

However, I still fight a battle with guilt.  I should do more around the house.  I should be a better housekeeper.  I should, I should, I should.  Then every so often I roll up my sleeves, put my big girl socks on, and try to see what I can accomplish.  Sometimes I pay a price when I can’t move the next day, but I do try.

One such day occurred last week.  When I got up in the morning I felt pretty good.  I made my list (I love lists) and got to work.  I attacked the kitchen with vim and vigor, proud that I was making a difference. Soon it was almost finished.  Then, when I was ready to clean our kitchen cart…you know, one of those metal 3 shelf jobbies on wheels that lots of people had years ago…often red, but mine was yellow…I saw it.  A huge bag of M & M’s that I didn’t even remember sticking on the shelf.  Ecstatic, I reached for the bag.  After all this work, I figured I deserved a reward and I haven’t eaten dessert since Christmas.  Ripping open the bag, a few tasty morsels fell to the floor.  I did what any self-respecting person would do after just cleaning the kitchen.  I grabbed them up and dusted them off.  Since it was a big bag, I figured I would only take a handful plus of course the ones I rescued from the floor.  I could almost taste that chocolate before I even put one in my mouth.  The yellow M & M came closer and closer.  I opened my mouth and…

…and…AND THEN I WOKE UP!!!!  I should have known it was a dream.  I don’t even have a yellow metal 3 shelf jobby on wheels.

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