Suddenly domestic-ish

"Spacemen just don't look at home in a breakfast nook." -Crow.

I'm not exactly 'well known' around town as being a particularly neat and tidy person. For some reason or another I have had no problem keeping the main areas of my various abodes nice and sweet, while rendering my bedroom and the interior of my car un-inhabitable. I'm not too sure what this might mean about me from a psychological perspective, but I don't really give a rats arse.

Because of this, it was quite a surprise to myself and all that know me, that I took on such a fervent domestic role at Mr. Hot Pilots house.

As a bit of a background, my better half is a single papa who also has a super awesome job flying. He devotes himself 110% to being the best daddy possible (he is by far the most awesome dad I've ever seen in action) and devotes the same to being the best pilot and officer he can be. This dedication to Munchkin and his job tends to take away from his time to really clean house. Don't get me wrong, he is always on top of doing the laundry (the one job I LOVE-go figure!) and cooking a hot breakfast and healthy dinner EVERY SINGLE DAY. Yep. Hot breakfast as in eggs, bacon, pancakes, you name it. Every. Day. (Did I mention how awesome he is?) In the realm of cleaning house though...he leaves much to be desired. And that is where I come in.

I've grown accustomed to putting back together a house that my two tornadoes mess apart. But I love to do it because I love my boys. I do find myself frustrated sometimes by the mess however. But many times I just have to laugh. These are MEN (and boys!) we are talking about here! For instance, I went down to Texas to stay with Munchkin during the 2 weeks Mr. Hot Pilot was away at a training. There were about 4 days of overlap between when Mr. Hot Pilot left (Munchkin stayed at our friends home) and when I arrived. Mr. Hot Pilot decided to leave the cat at the house with enough food and water to hold her over until I got there. When I walked into the house, I found 3 mountains of cat food in three separate bowls on the kitchen floor but no water in sight. I looked at the cat and thought "well, she seems healthy enough and not on the brink of death, so what in the name of all that is holy is she drinking?". I looked high and low for a water bowl. And then I found it. The lid of the toilet in the main bathroom was left up. Yep. Mr. Hot Pilot figured that there was an unlimited supply of water in there and "she drinks out of there if I don't watch her anyway!".

Sick dude. Cat drank poop water and then came over to give me love and licks before I knew any better. (Mind you, when I inquired about having her learn to go to the bathroom on a toilet like some cats do, he wouldn't have anything to do with it since the thought of having to wait for the cat to finish business before he could use it just was too much for him.)

Over the course of those two weeks I scrubbed and washed and de-cluttered and re-vamped the entire household.

I totally nested.

Munchkin helped me pick out yummy scented candles and which pictures to hang on the walls in their new frames. He even hugged me while I was mopping the floor and thanked me. (And yes, my heart did melt!) I even got Munchkin to clean his room, since that was what Mr. Hot Pilot wanted help with the most.

When Mr. Hot Pilot returned home to us, I had a Tres Leches cake waiting in celebration. It was gross. (I never said I was the best baker did I?) I must have mentioned in passing that I would just throw the cake out before I left. It was in the refrigerator, so it was easy to forget that early morning at 4am when I had to leave for the airport. I returned two weeks later to find the cake still sitting in the fridge.

Mr. Hot Pilot's response?

"You said YOU were going to throw it out!"

My, oh my.

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