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A note to all you manufacturers of cleaning supplies out there (because, you know, I'm sure tons of them are just reading my journal on a daily basis. Um. But anyway).
If you want to encourage men to do the cleaning, you might want to consider marketing the stuff to their taste. Camouflage rubber gloves, for example, or toilet cleanser named 'Raging Bull' or 'Mad Dog'. Toss in a few commercials with a couple WWF goons giving great manly grunts and flexing their muscles as they attack the evil bathtub ring, and we just might be able to even out that whole household chore discrepancy thing, hmm? After all, look at what marketing does for sports cars and beer - and how many guys fall for those? We're missing a virtually untapped market here, folks! Time to get snappy.
Okay, so the 'manly' names idea for cleaning solutions came from Richard (who is a truly marvelous husband because he does all the vacuuming. Hands off, ladies, he's all mine). But the rest - all my little fantasy. ******** Inspired by the growing number of houses on our street that are sporting cobwebs, ghosts, pumpkins, and other signs of October's best-known candy-fest, Richard and I finally broke down and rummaged through the closet in the guest room to find all of our Halloween decorations.
It's a pitifully small collection, considering we're dealing with the combined wealth of two recently single people. Among other things, we have: two large black plastic cauldrons, a silly puffy spider windsock, one of those 'flat' witches that's supposed to look like she ran into a tree (or your door, or something else), a shadow-activated chattering skull, and more fake spider webs than should be humanely allowed. There is also, of course, a costume for the stone goose - a sparkly blue magician's cap and pointed hat. I'm thinking what all of this means is that we have a wonderful excuse to hit the after-Halloween sales to see what cool stuff might be perfect for our house for next year. ******** Can someone please tell me what the heck is going on with the weather? We were moving quite nicely into beautiful fall weather - where we actually had to close the windows at night or it would get a bit too chilly. Then suddenly somebody had to go mucking with the outdoor thermostat and we're right back into summer.
When the winds kick in, as they often do in our area of the valley, it makes the heat bearable, but where there's only the barest hint of a breeze, we're forced back inside, to turn the air conditioning on and mutter under our breath about the indecency of Mother Nature to not be able to make up her mind.
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