The parents are coming! The parents are coming!

My parents will be here in six hours or less. I just started cleaning. Mike will say, um, no. You started blogging about cleaning. Details. Purist. Farty pants.

First stop. Guest bedroom. I yelled for the kids to go play without hurting each other. Then, I did what any immodest mother sans cleaning lady does. I grabbed the Soft Scrub and got naked. Yes, it was shower cleaning time.

Now, don't y'all tell me you've never done this. I know you time-pressed mamas sacrifice your skin for the shower's sake. And, while I'm sure I just took 10 years off my life via a toxin steam bath, I must say, I've never felt so damn squeaky clean in my life. I think I got a free dermabrasion, too.

Hopefully, my parents will never read this post. If they do, (Hi Mom! Hi, Dad!) I'm sure they'll never be able to shower in this house again without a horrible visual. Let's test the limits of unconditional love.

Rock. Painters...Figures.

What can we do now, Mom?

I picked the kids up from preschool and took them to the park. We played chase. I pitched baseballs. I pushed them on this weird rotating wheel thing that makes them scream with joy, but makes me want to hurl. We had lunch. I worked up a sweat and scored some points as World's Greatest Mom.

Or, so I thought.

Five hours of straight stimulation and the kids wanted more. I, of course, was tired. And, my deodorant was failing I thought, WWSD*? I remembered how my Mom sent my niece and nephew into her backyard to play a riveting game of "pick up sticks." She literally had them collecting branches off the lawn, racing to see who could grab twigs faster.

Brilliant.

I debated holding a dusting race inside the house, but the weather was too nice. Plus, I actually think my kids are smarter than that. So, I went more subtle. Something that would remain within my WiFi's reach, but keep them occupied so I could Google random stuff like "Miss California and pictures and disqualify."

"We're painting rocks!" I yelled. They looked at me like I was nuts. But, I sold it hard and they bought it. We weren't going to be painting any nansy-pansy pebbles. We were going for broke and brushing up the big-ass boulders along-side the house.

I gave them paint, paint brushes and promised not to yell. I reneged on the last part when they threatened to touch-up my neighbor's fence. Stick to the plan, kids.

When they were finished, they decided to show off the Renoir rocks. Mike pretended it was awesome, but told me it was more like graffiti. Oh no. Our property value just plummeted. And, my friend with a FOSBO across the street is gonna sic block watch on my gangsta family.

Time to do a rain dance.


Mike surveys the damage.


*What would Shobha do?