My favorite thing about this weather is the sudden flurry of productivity that happens around here. I was completely useless on Saturday and Sunday, but today I got home from the gym and spent the next four hours cleaning. The kids got in on it, too. I gave them some rags, and they went around the house cleaning baseboards. Well, Grace cleaned baseboards. Emmy alternated between getting in her way (doing just what Sister does means does JUST what Sister does, not the same thing five feet away) and wiping down random objects with her rag. The (clean) table. The carpet. Her (not clean anymore) face.
Around the kids, I try not to act like I hate housework when I do it. I usually don't hate it; it's not always fun, but it is satisfying. However, today it was FUN. It's hard to fake enjoyment when you're not really feeling it, but I don't want them to grow up thinking housework is something to be avoided and hated. It also helps them think that their own small chores are a privilege. I wonder how long that will last. So I plaster on a smile when I'm working and hope I'm not too phony.
But today it was a joy. Another sign that spring is coming.
I know the First World Problems jokes are probably getting old, but one of my favorites is rough toilet paper. We have to have the softest possible tissue to wipe our most disgusting body part, we sit on a porcelain receptacle made specifically for disposing of the most disgusting aspect of being human, and that just seems completely natural to everyone. Don't get me wrong. I will not be forfeiting my hex-ply toilet paper woven from unicorn fur and clouds, delivered to my store on the wings of baby cherubs. My hindquarters are tender.
But this just struck me the right way at the gym the other day. (The gym I go to because my day-to-day life is easy enough that I don't get enough exercise in working from sunup to sundown achieving basic survival.) I was all grumbly about the state of the scratchy toilet paper in this place when I realized how good I have it, just by not having to crouch in the brush and hope there's a leaf around suitable to the task.
So we went and bought toilet paper the other day (Costco had a deal), and it's Charmin ULTRA STRONG! toilet paper. Which just takes the whole thing from silly into completely absurd. What kind of Chuck Norris poop are talking about here? Is this a need that has not been met yet in the toilet paper industry? And how awkward do I need to feel when I drag my pallet of Charmin ULTRA STRONG! up to the counter? Do cashiers think about these things, too? Do they think, "Oh, ULTRA STRONG! You must be a hearty sort," or do they not notice at all? I almost hope they do notice and draw all kinds of hilarious conclusions based on what else is in your cart. We bought an economy size box of Kashi cereal and some OxyClean. I guess they will have fun with that one.