I have decided that this kitchen right here is a direct result of the fall of man. This black and white tile floor, while a good idea in the 1950’s is an absolute beast in the 2013’s. Seriously: if I wanted to bother keeping it clean all the time I would have to mop multiple times a DAY. I spent two hours in here today scrubbing all surfaces (white paint on kitchen cabinets…boo!), the baseboards, and the edges of this floor with two Mr. Clean Erasers. I then mopped it. And it stayed clean as long as nobody dared to walk in there and trust me, nobody dared to walk in there for at least one hour. But if you walk in there right now you would never know what went down in there earlier today. It’s just that tricky of a household villain.
Craig is fond of reminding me how much I loved the floor when we were looking at this house in 2011 and he’s right – from our one walk-through the house I saw it and loved it. It wasn’t until we moved in and I mopped it for the first time…and the second…and the third before I realized what we’d moved into.
But if I need a shot of perspective I can find one. Every day I drive through a depressed neighborhood. Just today I saw a man carrying a child and they were wrapped up in a red fleece blanket with teddy bears on it. He was headed in the direction of the elementary school and preschool but they were still pretty far from it and I had no idea where they’d started. No idea where they live or if they chose to make that journey by foot. My instinct tells me it wasn’t a choice and they would probably be happy if dealing with a hard-to-keep-clean kitchen floor was at the top of their list of daily annoyances.
So there. Now I’m not as frustrated with my lot in life. Though if anyone knows of a magical way to keep a black and white tile floor cleaner longer I’m listening. And the answer can’t be to get rid of any of the living beings that inhabit this house…