A Hate-Hate Relationship

Here is the bane of my existence:




I really don't know what I was thinking when I picked a white tile floor with white grout. Maybe I was just naive, or maybe it was because we only had one three year-old when we moved into our house. This kitchen floor has been scrubbed three times in the last five days. I normally don't have to wash it this often, but our son, in a bit of eleven-year old angst, spilled an entire cup of grape juice (I had to wash the floor twice to remove all signs of stickiness).

I will say that the floor has been durable, successfully breaking every item I've ever dropped on it.

For those of you that say, "what about people that don't have kitchen floors"? Well, if I could, I'd send it to them! I am thankful for my kitchen. It really is my solace, I have enjoyed so much my time spent here. I do look around wistfully sometimes though, I have to be honest. I don't have tons of cabinet or counter space, but it is a fully functional kitchen and I am thankful for it. But I still hate the floor.



This, however, has saved my bacon more than a few times. I literally use these to shreds every week. On a normal week, I'll use one for the house. On a really bad week, I'll use two. These are so great, I can not extol their virtues enough. Sometimes I think I should buy stock in the company. I love using them for cleaning walls, bathtubs, tile floors, windowsills, doors, grout, etc. I have not found a capacity in which they are not magic. Seriously.



Finally, want to see my new favorite toy?

Here it is:



My awesome husband picked it out for me, and I am in love. And, yes, that's more rhubarb for another rhubarb-custard pie. What can I say, it's the breakfast of champions.