Come on over

I've just finished playing my favorite game and boy am I tired. Exhausted really. It's a fun little game that perhaps you've heard of. I like to call it, "Dave has invited people over so now he must frantically clean the house so they don't run away in horror."

Ring any bells?

April and I are members of a small group that meets periodically throughout the year. We sit in a circle and discuss highbrow subjects such as the definition of God, the role and art throughout history and the meaning of life. At least for the first five minutes. After that the conversation usually drifts to more important matters such as our children, favorite TV shows and Facebook.

I love it. There is usually coffee and cookies, and I get a chance to discuss something besides the letter of the day and Ruff Ruffman's latest conquest. April and I try to have serious discussions on our own, but it always includes a five-year-old tugging on April's sleeve and yelling, "Mommy! Mommy! MOMMY!!!!" We can usually tune out the first two "Mommy's!", but when he starts screaming in all capital letters, well there is simply no hope.

So it's our turn to host a meeting tonight, and that leaves me with the daunting task of making our house look presentable. You know, like two dogs, a kindergartener and a chips-and-salsa addict don't live here. I've been vaccuming, straightening and dusting all afternoon and I do believe I've accomplished my goal. It may not be the royal palace, but it will suffice. The servants are on holiday, after all, and one must make do.

I am always amazed at the sheer amount of dirt and fur our house accumulates over a short period of time. Whenever I get the vacuum out and disengage the storage thingy to throw out the dust and stuff (Sorry if my technical descriptions are too complicated. Just try to keep up) I find enough dirt to start a garden. It looks like I just take the vacuum out into the backyard and turn it on. I really wouldn't categorize our family as "slobs," but it's a rather remarkable sight.

There is, however, a happy ending to all of this. Whenever my little game is finished, and I've had a chance to catch my breath, I get the joy of sitting in a wonderfully clean house. Take in the fresh air and marvel at how the wood floors are supposed to look. This lasts for all of 10 minutes until our little Yorkie dog Jordan drags in a mud-covered stick and begins rubbing it all over the floor.

I sure hope our group gets here soon!

Keep it clean kiddies.

- Dave