Greasy Elbow

Cleanliness becomes more important when godliness is unlikely.

P. J. O'Rourke

I have lately realized that house cleaning is about 20% good cleaning products and 80% elbow grease. This is why the Man says that the apartment gets cleaner when he's the one cleaning. I can't help it that he has more upper body (scrubbing) strength than I do. Jillian Michaels is supposed to be fixing that for me, but she's not a miracle worker.

Can I just say that keeping a house clean is difficult when you have a permanently shedding cat (who loves to roam the kitchen counters at night), a baby who diligently spits up on ... everything, a husband who comes home with dirt in his pockets (deposited by the handful with love from a little boy at the air show), and my own post-pregnancy hair loss going on. It takes a lot of work to keep all that spit up and dirt and hair (both blonde and otherwise) from matting the counters and floor boards and carpets, et cetera. If I was not already going bald from the post-pregnancy hair loss (and the chunks that Littles is pulling out with his new grasping talent), I'd have hair falling out from the stress of a losing battle.

Luckily, I always have the Man and his greasy elbow to take over when I reach that point. Right, babe?