The Dad in Me

I think I am turning into my dad. No, I don't have the harry chest yet and I am not yet balding. But I am loosing my eye brows like him.

I did something this morning and after, I realized I had learned that little trick from my dad. I took several pitchers of water and dumped them all over my tile floor. Then I got a cleaning rag and spread the water around, then took that same cleaning rag and sopped up all the water. The result was a perfectly clean floor, nothing crusted on it and even the grout was clean.

I remember as a child my dad, or maybe it was my mom, taking pitchers of water and dumping them on the floor with a little shout of "oops" every time they dumped more water on the floor. That little exclamation made me so mad. It was horrible enough that they had to dump water on the floor that I had to clean up, but to add the "oops" to it was just too much. Why couldn't they just mop the floor with a mop like normal people? A little pine sol? Nope, not us. We had water dumped on the floor that took FOREVER to clean up.

Last night as I was cleaning up, as I was sweeping, I was overwhelmed with all the nastiness on my floor. All the crusties that would take some serious elbow grease scrubbing to remove. And I just didn't have the energy. I am usually a weekly hand scrubber of my floor, but I have let that slide over the last month, using a mop, which really doesn't achieve the same results. Especially when you let children use that mop.

Now I see why my dad used this horrible dumping of water all over the floor. It softens things up and makes the job so much easier. I used to be able to hand mop a floor with not too much effort. But the traffic of 6 messy children in my home is making me resort to things I swore I would never do.