I Don't Work for General Mills, I Just Feel Like I Do.

My daughter gave me a new broom and long-handled dustpan for Christmas. A very practical gift, as my back objects to using a typical dustpan, and my daughter objects to being the dustpan holder. (I always hated that job when I was a kid, too!) Practical, because at any time, I may ...no...WILL be facing this.




As a general rule, I sweep the kitchen floor after the babies are in bed for the night and the dishes are done. So, this, folks...this combination of Corn Chex, Apple Jacks, Cheerios, bread crumbs, and who-knows-what-else...is one morning's worth of dirt. On my kitchen floor. That I crunch. Every time I take a step.

But it gets worse.






I have Cheerios in my Christmas tree! And under my piano. And in my couch cushions, furnace registers, laundry baskets, shoes...

Rabbits! They should have named them RABBITS!

And to top it all off...I went to Walmart this morning - with no list - to buy a new vacuum cleaner, because my old one died. The minute I walked in the house, I remembered what I had forgotten to buy at Walmart.

GAAAAAAAH!