Mastering the 45 Second Shower.

With a baby you don’t always have a lot of time for luxuries like showering, eating, or going to the bathroom. When you get the chance, you’ve got to make it count. In that spirit, I am proud to say that I have mastered the 45 second shower. 

(“Are you crazy? We don’t have time to stop there!”)

I’m not talking about some sort of rinse after the gym or a quick splash to clean the sand off your feet at the beach. No, I’m talking ‘bout a head to toe scrub a dub, cuz ya smell, yo. Perhaps you’re really late for work or the kid could wake at any minute. Either way, it’s time to FOCUS.

Read More

Permalink

That’s Where You Belong (In My Arms, Baby… (Yeah))

The Redhead and I are locked in combat right now, Internet. Not with each other, mind you, but with our own sense of sentimentality. We’ve discovered a large pile of junk things that have made us pull up the brakes on our “throw it away!” ultimatum for the afternoon.

We found a large stack of stuff from our wedding. (Quick tip for those getting married: order LESS of EVERYTHING.) Obviously, it’s not a hard judgment call to throw away over 100 extra thank you cards that specifically say “thank you for attending.” (Another tip: Don’t be specific on anything printed.) The problem is this: we found wedding cards addressed to us. We can’t throw those out, can we? It seems thoughtless. Yes, it’s over 3 years ago, but it feels weird to me. I say we stuff them under the bed next to the old pillows and Philosophy of the Matrix books. You never know when we’ll need these things!

The battle continues.

Permalink

Streaks on the china never mattered before.

Scrub scrub here, scrub scrub there, Internet. With all the rain we’ve been getting, it’s essentially a free patio wash, so I’ve been swabbing the deck intermittently while the rain falls. This has lead to more scrubbing, both outdoors and in. I shall live as a cleaning king…

Due to the recent menu being served at my home, Goldenblog, I have had to scrub the same oversized frying pan every day for the past week. It’s too big for the dishwasher, but anything else is too small for how I like my bacon. (Fused together at the ends in the pan to make a 3 foot Bacon Snake.)

Normally, I wouldn’t bother so much with these activities. Not that they wouldn’t bother me, but that I wouldn’t bother to do them, at least not in a timely manner. But as we get older, a different quality of living is required. No more shall we spend our Sundays wallowing in the filth of the previous evening’s debauchery. No longer do paths cut in piles of dirty clothes and shoes leading to the bed and couch serve as a proper trade route. We must see the whole carpet. Christmas presents that at one time sounded like a gag gift or veiled insult are now being requested, like a new ironing board or a vacuum cleaner.

We’re growing up.

Permalink

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

Today is Bob Seger Day in the Tucker Blogs household.

No reason other than today is a cleaning day, and nothing captures the solemn feeling of washing dishes and reflecting on our closed Play like Michigan’s Rock and Roll Poet Laureate.

Slow rocking songs with a hint of sadness and loads of sex: that’s how I wash dishes.

22 plays

Permalink

“Honey if you call and I’m not home, I’ll be at the gym or the Gun Club.”

Afternoon, Internet. Sorry I’ve been away for awhile, but I had some things to catch up on. Some boring, run o’ the mill, domestic bull hockey, like laundry and vacuuming. I’ve also been lounging at the pool, so don’t feel too bad for me. Just filling those summer days….

(“It’s exhausting.”)

The Redhead, unfortunately, has been working like a crazy woman, which is not a stretch for her anyway and I’m very, very supportive of her. As the current “Managing Director of Domestic Duties and Sustenance” at the Chateau Blog, aka Goldeneye, aka The Bat Cave, it’s up to me as the one that’s home to keep the place spick Hispanic and span with a meal planned for the evening. I fail miserably.

Read More

Permalink

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

After getting home from work, circumstances and raw evidence forced my next move: it was time to clean the bathroom (or as we say in Chicago, “batchrum”). So on the ipod went, and the little angel that lives inside it blessed me with this nugget.

“Heartbeat” by Don Johnson.

If I decide to clean the bathroom, I get down and dirty. I scrub like I’m selling the place. And I keep going. I stretched into the kitchen and stopped just short of breaking out the vacuum when I realized the neighbors may not appreciate it at this hour. It’s kind of like the vomit rule: if someone else starts cleaning up puke, by all means, let them do it. There’s no reason to interfere with something that only results in a positive. Then again, that may be the same reasoning that got Sonny Crockett in the recording studio.

Oh, and there’s some skippage towards the end of the song. Do you actually think I payed for Heartbeat? (note from the lawyer: he paid for it.)

6 plays

Permalink

I gotta clean up my act….

How you be, Internet? Today is the first day of unemployment, and it’s time to set a few things in order. It’s time to take stock of my life and inventory. It’s time… to scrub the bathroom.

(“We have to do the nasty….”)

Thank the Island for the ipod. I’m gonna plug in and scrub down. The way I figure, it’s best to start with the crappy parts of a cleaning day so they’re out of the way. Logically, I should immediately proceed to the shower and clean that, but that can be done during my own shower simply by spilling some soap and shuffling my feet around.

When it comes to cleaning, I am both extremely thorough and horribly scattered. Today the windows will be scrubbed, shelves will be dusted, and our storage closet will be cleaned and reorganized, but my socks from Friday will remain on the floor of the living room. For some reason, they’ll become a part of the topography of the house and I’ll just step over them on my way to and fro. It may not be the most efficient method, but it’s the method I’m going with, as logic and organization have no place in my world of unemployment.

So if you need me, knock loud, because I blast the ipod. I’ll be knee deep in Windex and piles of paper towels for the rest of the day, or until a better idea comes along, like video games or Netflix. Do not worry, Internet, I’ll get the place clean, and accomplish my REAL goal for the day: avoid thinking about the things in my personal act I should be cleaning up.

Quitting smoking has been postponed to tomorrow.

Permalink