Sort of…
(I Don’t Mind Mopping the Floor.)
“Follow your heart, listen to your inner voice, and stop caring about what others think.” ~ Roy T. Bennett
Tuesday, April 25th, 2023
I Really Don’t Mind Mopping the Floor.
P.S. Grab Your Grippie Socks.
“What? Oh, man!”
“Come here, Kim. This is the floor cleaner. This is the wax. Here are the buckets and sponges.”
“It’s Saturday, Dad!”
“Let me show you, here, on the back, it says to add one cup of cleaner to a bucket of… and for the wax…”
I stood there – blank stare – nodding in approval – to what, I had no idea.
“I’ll prep the wash for you this time. Now, pay attention. Use your elbow grease, and get into the corners like this… “
“Keep going, Dad. You’re doing great.”
“Alright, Kim, we’re heading to the store. We’ll be home soon. Stay out of trouble. I want to see the floor shine when we get back.”
Yeah, this isn’t going to happen.
“Ok, and then can I go out?”
“We’ll see.”
They left me in the middle of the house, in the middle of the kitchen floor, alone, with buckets and sponges and little hope, probably, for a clean floor upon arrival later that morning.
Well, I’m not one for disappointing others, nor… nor am I one for getting in there with elbow grease.
Yes, it’s true – it was a Saturday. I heard faint laughter in the background from other children playing and the sound of chain links from a distant swing, clinking against the poles, swooshing through the air. The scent of ice cream from the ice cream man being eaten wafted through the open windows, with visions of the warming cow juice dripping down sweaty little arms, and again I heard more laughter and more. Yay, I heard all those things as I stood there with the mop, sponge, sudsy water, and arched eyebrows… staring at the floor…
At that dark, shiny, wooden-ish floor. The wooden… wooden… hmmm… then it hit me like lightning!
Like magic.
I emptied the bucket and put away the cleanser and wax. Done. Hours of hard labor – shelved.
Two-ply paper towels and Pledge instead.
I put on music, sprayed the floor and air with lemon-scented Pledge, smelled clean already, floated the paper towels to the floor, and then skated around. I was all over the place. One song later, the floor was polished, shiny, and the house smelled amazing.
And I had time to spare.
Snacks in hand, pride swelling, I went to the living room for my well-rewarded television time.
-Cut to 2 hours later-
The backdoor opens, and I hear my mom and dad walking in.
“Hey, Kim. We’re back. The floor looks… WHOA!!” My mom slips.
“Cher, are you… AAAHHH!!!!” My dad slides.
I looked up just in time to see my parents, and a few minutes later, one of my brothers…
All.
Down like flies.
Right after everyone white-knuckled it, I got the – “Kim, can you come in here for a moment?” – beckoning.
Here we go. Game face.
“Kim, you really did a great job on the floor. It looks amazing, but… how much wax did you use?”
“Per the instructions on the back, Dad.”
“Just a cap full?”
“Yep, just a cap.”
My dad nods, tiptoes to the cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink, and picks up the wax. Probably to see if the bottle was empty. It wasn’t. It was still full, just as before. Dumbfounded, he scratches his head and slowly walks back over to me.
Many times after, I “mopped” with continued outstanding results!
The kitchen floor became the family ‘Slip ‘N Slide’.
It would be the highlight of my week to Pledge and then wait… someone would be home soon.
Don’t worry about mopping the floors this week, Mom and Dad. I’ll do it.
So many memories of family members coming home – in a flurry – not knowing I’d just “waxed” the middle room of the house.
I fell too. A lot, forgetting it was slick, but it was worth it.
And I would have gotten away with it too if it weren’t for a fun game we played ONE year at the family dinner table on Thanksgiving day – the game was called, “What’s one thing you kids did that we still don’t know about?”
Pure honesty. Sober and willing.
I gave up my Pledge story and haven’t heard the end of it since. Luckily we only went one round. Now at Thanksgiving, we stick to sharing the one thing we are thankful for and leave it at that.
“One small positive thought can change your whole day.” ~ Zig Ziglar
✌🏻
Kim Considine 
True story. Way too cute Kim!! I was cracking up remembering our sliding adventure. Good memories.
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Thanks, Mom! I remember some of us would take a running start from the living room to slide through the kitchen – do a turn around at the fridge – then jump off into the backroom. Olympic worthy. So fun. I love you!♥️
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Kim, you must have been quite a handful. I have 12 children myself and, let me tell you, I have tons of stories too. You have a great way of telling yours. Keep it up!
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Wow, Verlene! Did you mean, 1-2 children, like depending on how you look at it… 1 or 2? Would love to hear your stories – picturing you know with one child on your lap, one strapped to your back, and one on your head, and the rest swarming around you. Thanks for the encouraging words. All the best to you! And your village.
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You are funny. 12 real kids. All but 2 are out of the house already. I have more spare time now so I get to do things for myself like reading your blog, fishing, and knitting. And I’ve even been taking acting lessons. Looking forward to your next post.
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Verlene you amaze me. I’m looking forward to seeing you perform. I’m picturing you with long limbs in tight clothing – dancing. Good for you – the 12 real children and your diverse set of hobbies – keep enjoying life. P.S. Still picturing you dancing with long limbs.
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