Today, I want to share some hope with you. We can deal with this, ladies. I'm calling it "The Christmas Cheer pain reliever".
Step one: Grab that man that makes you crazy, and drag his filthy self to the motherland, aka Target. Make a beeline for the Christmas section.
Step two: Make him go through every single aisle with you as you ooh and ahh over every single little thing you see. Maybe even take some pictures of the things that make you happy.
Step three: Walk out happy as a clam that you got target time, and you got to do so with your
Step four: Walk into your still messy house, and pour yourself a yummy beverage, preferably wine (if you care to partake). While this glass is red, I recommend white wine. It doesn't stain as much.
|Check out that laundry basket full of clothes. Classy.|
It isn't a permanent cure. And I'm going to have to repeat many times, but that's what box wine is for. Ammon's promised me that when I get pregnant, I also get to hire a housekeeper to come in a few times a month (we all know I'm going to need it, since I'm going to be drinking grape juice instead). I think that's really the cure. Can we all admit that the best present we could ever get is to have a person hire us a house cleaner?
Hint, hint, boys.