Mayhem takes only three days to materialize in my house. Since I chose to squander my time away on things other than nagging, reminding, cleaning and threatening, I have only myself to blame.
I've learned the following:
Rio doesn't have a problem sitting on top of the kitchen table, rummaging through piles of unfolded laundry to find something decent to wear.
Amaya is content with consuming tuna straight from the can to get out of washing a dish, and avoid unloading the dishwasher.
It's easier for my family to wear shoes in the house than pick up the broom to sweep.
Why make the beds? We're going to sleep in them anyway.
I could go on, but I think there's a clear visual of where I'm at.
"Are you coming to soccer practice?" My husband asked.
"No! Have you noticed the house?" I did my best Vanna White impression. "I have to clean!"
He shrugged his shoulders, impervious to the chaos.