I am not OCD about cleaning. I'm not even particularly crazy about cleaning (although I do have higher standards for cleanliness than the other adult living here is, I've noticed), but one must clean house if one is to survive.
to kill me.
Specifically the twins. While Caitlin may make her share of messes, the twins have out stripped her in breadth and scope of sheer destructive and deliberate mess making.
What's the point in sweeping and mopping if not thirty seconds after allowing a twin into the room with some beans and rice it is all over the floor, requiring yet more sweeping and mopping? I left them alone while I went to go get my food and water in the kitchen. It's not even that far away! The dining room and kitchen are essentially the same room, but separated by the bartop/stovetop peninsula between the two.
That peninsula is what hides the worst of the twins' depravities from my eyes while I'm working in the kitchen. Only the sneaky silence tells me that Something Is Wrong.
Also, every time I turn around Logan is busy ripping my poor fuchsia apart and throwing soil all around.
I know that I've mentioned the need for a dog that I can pull out of a pocket dimension to eat all of the food that gets thrown around, but I think what I really need is a straight jacket for Logan. Or a force field that a) keeps them out of the plants and b) doesn't allow food to fall to the floor.
Yeah. Get to work on that, would ya?