This week-end someone in our family let a bag of cheese crackers fall to the floor (Late July crackers—YUM!) spewing cracker bits and crumbs under the kitchen table. Since I didn't actually see the crime in progress I can't assign blame, but I have my suspect based on who was last seen holding the bag. Wearily (while saying in a mildly sarcastic tone, don't worry, I'll get it, under my breath) I bent down to clean it up. My husband jokingly said using my oldest daughter's tone of voice, just leave it, mom (which sounds more like m-aaww-m), it'll just disappear. From her, er, rather his perspective this is true. A mess left is gone by the time anyone gets back to the scene of the crime. And don't I wish there was magic! But no matter how many times I have tried I couldn't fold a single piece of laundry by simply wiggling my nose, and no matter how hard I wish I still don't have a magic wand. If I did, I would banish all other clunky manual cleaning devices from the house. Sorry, I am getting lost in my own fantasy.
What is the problem here you may ask? It is just a few crumbs on the floor. Well consider this: a Mafia godfather, was discovered—after forty years on the run!—when his clean laundry was followed from his wife's house to his hideout. You would think that doing your own laundry while on the run from the polizia would be a no-brainer. But it doesn't end there. While in prison he still gets to send his laundry to his wife once a month! Don't get me wrong I don't expect my children to be organized criminals, but I do want to instill in them the importance of doing their own chores and, I guess, to never leave a paper trail?!
What I am trying to say is, crumbs do not disappear. Probably someone swept them up, or vacuumed, or maybe the dog ate them. But if it wasn't the dog it was likely me, Sarah a.k.a m-aaww-m.
**Added this morning: When I read Yarnhog's comment to this post I was reminded of this Invisible Mom commercial. Apparently it created a lot of outrage because some people thought they were invisible to their families because their hair didn't look good. We all know it doesn't matter what your hair looks like. I could wear a duck on my head while cleaning the kitchen and still they might not offer to help. So if you were offended by this commercial, please don't view it, it will only bring up past hurts. I thought it was kind of funny—although it didn't make me want to run out and buy Suave.